Intersections at Right Angles
by Verbosity
Summary: A crossover of one of the Andromeda characters to the Lord of the Rings universe.
1. Default Chapter

**Intersections at Right Angles**

By Verbosity

Chapter 1

All appropriate disclaimers apply…I don't own the setting or characters involved in the story. I make no profit off this nor do I intend to detract from anyone elses profit, this story is merely intended for entertainment purposes.  

So…enjoy!

"How does that feel babe?" Harper asked as he sealed up the opening in her synthetic skin. 

Rommie's gaze seemed to turn inward for a moment, then returned to rest on him as a small smile quirked her lips. "Like a new power cell." 

"Ha ha. Very funny. I mean how does the power flow feel?" He put the sealing tool away." 

"Stable, no glitches that I can detect, though…the flow seems more energetic than my old model" She looked up at him. "Are you sure the current matches my specs?"

"Of course babe. You know I wouldn't make a mistake like that." He gave her a cocky grin. "I did build that gorgeous body of yours after all and I know it inside and out." He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.

"Harper…" There was a distinct warning in her voice.

"Here, here, look…" He picked up a diagnostic scanner, waved it at her and then turned the display toward her. "See, current, voltage, et cetera… all within acceptable parameters."  

"Humm…alright, I've also been meaning to ask you about the repair nanobot upgrade you gave me last week. I think you went a little overboard. I'm all for this body being able to repair itself, but my hair was actually growing."

"What?" He gave her an innocent look, "Don't you want the whole human experience. I mean hey, I've designed your bodacious bod to experience the whole enchilada. Take advantage."

Rommie looked at him and one eyebrow raised. "Some parts of the human experience I can do without." 

"Okay." Harper put up both hands. "Nix on the hair. I'll take out that section of the nano's programming. Give me just a second." He moved over to the computer console and picked up the wire interface for his neural port. 

Andromeda watched as he jacked in, and then as he interfaced with her ship-self's main computer she initiated her own connection, opening up her new programs to the virtual matrix for him to work with. She watched for a few moments as he tinkered with the code, cutting out a part here and a bit there, when she felt the presence of her main AI. 

"He does good work." Her main AI said on a level Harper couldn't perceive. "He has unusual ways of getting it done at times, but his programming is the equal of almost anything at the institute on Sparborth IV." 

Rommie Projected her amusement to her counterpart. "Well, he likes to tell us he's a super-genius." She observed as he manipulated a particularly recalcitrant piece of code with a ease she found startling in an organic, "and there are moments I'd believe him." 

*          *          *

A short time later Rommie walked into command, where Beka Valentine was standing watch as the ship hung silently in their current location in a blue-white star system.   

"Hello Beka."

Beka glanced up from the computer console. "Rommie, how did it go? Is the new power cell working?"

"It went fine, Harper does good work"  She cocked her head at her hologram which appeared next to the slipstream station. "I think the specifications exceed what we originally expected." 

The holographic Andromeda nodded, "The total power capacity is 12% higher than we anticipated, and the maximum output can exceed the old model by a factor of three."

Beka crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned back against the console, "You know, Harper never did tell me exactly how this power cell was different and why it was such a great thing." 

"My old power cell was a standard electro-chemical model. It would only allow me to function for a few days at a time away from a method of recharging."

Beka gave a little shrug," Couldn't you use a nuclear cell?" 

Holographic Andromeda shook her head, "No, in a power cell that small a size you can't get enough shielding and there are problems with radiation."

Beka looked at her and then back at Rommie, "And Harper found a way around that." She guessed.

"No, actually. He used antimatter." 

"The first officer's eyebrows shot up, "Antimatter. In a power cell that small? Is that…" She gave a hesitant pause. "…wise?" 

"Don't worry," Rommie grinned. "With the right type of antimatter the dangerous radiation is negligible, but the real genius of his idea was in the containment problem."

"I hope so," Beka shuddered. "I hate to think what would happen if you took enough damage to make the containment on that thing breach."

Rommie shook her head, "It can't happen. Physically speaking it's impossible for the power cell to breach. The antimatter is entrapped within quantum wells in a crystalline structure. It gives an extremely high energy density while providing a safe long term storage method." Sounding extremely pleased she said, "It should allow me to go without a recharge for decades." 

Beka smiled at her enthusiasm, "And with the repair nanobots Harper gave you earlier, your body is able to repair itself. So…"

Rommie was nodding, "If it becomes necessary I can operate independently of my ship-self indefinitely." She frowned, "Not that I particularly want to."

The voice of Andromeda's main AI broke into the conversation. "Beka, I'm reading increasing instability in the star's corona. The activity suggests the approach of a massive stellar event. It would probably be best if we left the system immediately."  

"Alright," Beka moved toward the slipstream station. "Andromeda, if you would alert Dylan…"

"Already done."

"…and prepare to enter slipstream." She hit several buttons and the slipstream controls glided within reach.

Rommie took hold of the railing to steady herself just as Beka said "Transiting."

Reality gave a weird lurch that always accompanied transit into that other-spatial dimension that was known as slipstream. 

As Beka piloted through the quantum probabilities that comprised all slipstream routes Dylan Hunt strode onto Command.

"Status?" He asked coming up beside Rommie.

The holographic Andromeda  replied, "All systems normal. Expecting to exit slipstream in two minutes and…" She stopped suddenly.

The main AI's voice sounded throughout the bridge, "I'm detecting an unstable resonance in my slipstream core." The eyes of the image onscreen widened, the voice suddenly becoming urgent, "Core failure imminent! Initiating emergency shutdown!" 

Moving with inhuman speed Rommie grabbed hold of both Dylan and Beka and anchored herself to the railing as best she could. An instant later her ship-self cut power to the slipstream drive. Transition to normal space was no gentle lurch this time, but a jolt that snapped them around like rag-dolls in the grip of a giant.

Keeping hold of her captain and first officer, Rommie winced, as through her connection with the main computer she felt systems blow out all over the ship. In moments, the shuddering of the vessel began to subside and as Rommie let go of the other two her ship-self began to give damage reports. Reaching through her connection to the ship she searched for her other crewmembers. Harper was still in the machine shop where she left him, now picking himself off the floor, blood dripping from a gash on his forehead. Trance was in medical and did not seem any the worse for ware, in spite of the violent shaking around. And Tyr…

"Ship! What in the progenitors name was that?!" Tyr's irritated voice came through her sensors on the observation deck.

_Tyr was Tyr_ she thought with some amusement even as she gave a sigh of relief at the safety of the crew. She gave an internal shudder as she remembered the last time a Highguard ship had been forced to shut down the slipstream drive in mid-transit; what had happened to the crew didn't bear much thinking on.

*          *          *

A half hour later all the crew was in Command to review the situation. 

"Stop scratching the patch Harper." Trance said in exasperation.

"But it itches." He said his hand still on the bandage over the cut on his forehead. He tried to scratch it again but trance caught his hand.

            "Let the medical nano's do their work and it will stop itching sooner!" Trance said as she put his hand back on the table.

            "Mr. Harper, what is the situation of the repairs?" Dylan tried again to get his engineer's attention. 

            "Well boss, Andromeda really did a number on herself yanking us out of slipstream like that. The sub light drive system is functioning at about 15% capacity, while the slipstream drive is totally offline. The artificial gravity and inertial compensation systems on the weapons deck are fried." He looked up from the flexi he was reading from, "So be real glad nobody was on it when came out of slipstream like that or they'd be a molecule thin paste on one of the bulkheads." 

Beka gave a little shudder at that. 

"To add to that, when Andromeda cut power to the drive, the feedback blew half the power relays on the ship, so I wouldn't recommend re-initializing the main reactors until we get most of those fixed." He grinned at Dylan, "If you didn't have a super genius like myself on board you might want to get worried. However…" he raised his hands to indicate himself, "…me being moi, I can fix all this."

"What about the slipstream drive," Beka interrupted. "What caused it to malfunction like that?"

"At a guess?" Harper threw up his hands, "I have no clue. I've never seen a slipstream drive behave like that."

"I have." Rommie's statement caused the crew to look at her, "It happened to another Highguard ship about five hundred years ago, but no one ever figured out why." _In good part because the crew was killed and the AI half scrambled_, she thought to herself. 

"So," Tyr said in his quiet, intense voice. "We are without an effective drive and on emergency power until you get us fixed." He fixed Harper with a look. "I suggest you get started, I don't like being a sitting target." 

Harper looked at him like he was crazy, "We're in the middle of nowhere, there isn't a star for light-years in any direction. I doubt anyone has been in this spot since the universe was created, and you're worried about being attacked?"

Beka looked at Tyr, "You think whatever knocked us out of slipstream was artificial?"  

Tyr shrugged, "It would make an excellent trap. Eliminate the crew, take the disabled ship intact."

Harper looked back and forth between them, "Isn't that a little paranoid?"

Beka looked at Harper a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, "He's our weapons officer, plus a Nietzschean,  he's supposed to be paranoid."

"Well big guy," Harper said. "If it makes you feel any better the weapon systems and sensors were basically unaffected. So, we may be sitting, but we're not defenseless."

"Alright people," Dylan took control of the conversation. "One person will stand watch in Command while the others assist Mr. Harper in repairing the vital systems." He turned to Harper, "Alright Mr. Harper what do you need us to do?"

"Well…"

*          *          *

            Sixteen hours later…

            The servos in Rommie's arms began whine as she pushed them to their limits, and the piece of conduit began to bend back into place.

            "O.K. Rommie, stop right there," Harper held up his hand. 

            Andromeda stepped back away from the conduit as Harper took out his nano wielder, and then turned as Dylan climbed down the ladder to the deck.

            Observing what Harper was doing he asked, "How is it going?" 

            "Good so far." She gestured at the conduit, "We've repaired 81% of the damaged conduits. So we should be able to bring the reactor online soon. Once that's done I can bring the rest of my auto-repair systems online as well. After that, the repairs should be much faster."

            "Excellent…" He stopped abruptly as Rommie's head jerked up just before an alert klaxon sounded throughout the ship.

            "Something just entered my sensor range." She said her eyes focused off somewhere beyond the bulkhead. Tyr is in Command and has just initiated an alert." 

            "Mr. Harper, I want the reactor online as soon as possible!" He took off running for Command with Rommie following.

            "Tyr, report!" Dylan's voice was strident as he came into command.

            Tyr was intent upon the view screen, "We've been drifting since we came out of slipstream, and this just came into sensor range. It looks like a station of some sort, but no design I've ever seen. "

            The main AI appeared on screen, "It masses about three hundred million metric tones, the surface seems to be composed of a diamondoid composite. I'm not reading any power signature."

            The hologram appeared a few feet in front of Dylan, "Captain, main power is coming back on line."

            "Excellent timing Mr. Harper," Rommie heard Tyr mutter.  

            "What's up." Beka asked as she strode into Command, "Oh." She saw the view screen and scrutinized the image on it for a moment. "Whatever that is it looks old."

            "It is old." The ships AI replied from the view screen, "Judging from its movement, the density of free-floating stellar matter and the wear on it's hull, it's been out here for more than a million years."

            "A million…" Beka paused then started again, "Wow, none of the known races come even close to that."

            Dylan turned his head from the view screen to glance at her. "The Vedrans are among the oldest known races and their history barely goes back twenty thousand years."

            "That would seem to indicate that whoever put this here is long gone." Rommie said.

            "Perhaps." Tyr said looking at the Captain, "But it is unknown and therefore dangerous, I suggest we keep our distance." 

            Dylan frowned a little in thought, "For the moment. Once we complete repairs we'll go take a look, the Sinti council will be salivating over a find like this."

*          *          *

            "Tell me again why I'm doing this?" Tyr asked as the Eureka Maru approached the ancient station. 

            Rommie glanced up at him as he stood in his pressure suit, holding the helmet under one arm, beside the pilots chair. "Because aside from myself you're the most durable person on board." 

            "Aren't you forgetting Trance?"

            "No, not really. She may die and come back, but you can survive things that would kill her." She turned forward again, "And in an emergency I might need a live body and not a corpse."

            "Very reassuring." His tone was mildly sarcastic.

            Rommie ignored it. "Besides, she says that something about this station is interfering with her ability to sense probability. It might affect her other abilities too."

            She pretended not to hear him as he muttered, "That should be warning enough."

            "Approaching within three hundred  meters." She announced, and reached out to flip a switch, turning on a set of floodlights aimed at the object. 

            The surface of the object was black, with a hint of what appeared to be iridescence, but only a hint, as the surface had long ago been dulled by the slow inexorable wear of the years. The overall shape was amorphous, not any one particular geometrical form, seeming to flow from one to another depending upon what angle you looked at it from. 

            AIs don't normally have hunches or feelings that many organic species are prey to, but even so, Rommie could feel the sense of tremendous age and patient waiting the object seemed to exude. She had the sudden utterly illogical impression that somehow the object was waiting for her. She sat staring at it for a moment, when she felt a mental nudge from her ship-self and shook the feeling off. According to her sensors there should be some sort of hatch right about… "there it is."  

            "Where?" Tyr leaned forward a little, peering at the structure, trying to locate the hatch.

            "Forty degrees down from the center and thirty starboard." She took hold of the maneuvering controls again, "I'll bring us around to dock with it. Get on the sensors and give me a detailed scan of it." 

            As she brought the Maru up next to the station Tyr frowned down at the console. "From the damage to the hull in the area I'm guessing the opening mechanism is nonfunctional. We'll most likely have to burn through. Not such an easy thing considering the strength of the materials."

            "Well," There was a hollow boom that echoed through the Maru as the airlock connected with the object, "we're here, so we'll give the airlock a chance to anneal to the surface and then let's get started." 

*          *          *

Even with the high temperature plasma cutting tool it took nearly an hour to cut through the hatch.

            "It wouldn't have taken half as long to burn through my hull." Rommie commented as they were nearly done. "Commonwealth material science could learn something from these people."

            "The fact of their more advanced science just makes this mission more dangerous." Tyr said as he shifted his grip on the cutter. "it means we have no idea of what to expect within."

            "All gloom and doom Tyr? Where's your sense of adventure?" Beka's voice came across the communications uplink to Andromeda. 

            "A sense of adventure is a very bad survival trait, it tends to engender a very brief lifespan in those who posses it, and I intend to live a very long time." He shot back. "There, done. A little pressure on this point and it should fall inward."

            "Alright, get your helmet on Tyr." Rommie turned and picked up the kit containing the medical pack an various other supplies. "I am reading an atmosphere on the other side but the readings are indeterminate, I'm not sure what it's composed of, and it has been sitting in there for a very long time." 

            "Just make sure it's not something that will do any damage to you, Rommie." Dylan ordered over the comlink. 

             She heard Harper's voice pipe up in the background, "Not to likely boss, her synthetic skin is pretty tough" 

            "Here goes." As she moved toward the door she noted Tyr had readied his Gauss gun and had moved to get a clear shot at the hatch. She put her hands on the hatch and pushed. There was a moment of resistance and then it fell back into the interior.

            Rommie scanned ahead, her sensors sampling the electromagnetic spectrum gathering information on the environment within. 

            "That's odd. The atmosphere is totally inert gasses, Krypton, Argon, Xenon. No active elements at all. It looks like their might be an active energy source too; the temperature is well above absolute zero." She remained poised on the threshold.

            "What is it?" Tyr asked growing impatient.

            "Just a thought." She looked back at him, seeing his raised eyebrow through the clear helmet. "The type of environment inside is what I would build if I were creating an place friendly to mechanical life. No active agents in the atmosphere, about the right temperature." 

            Tyr raised the other eyebrow. 

            Rommie shrugged, "Of course it's wild speculation." Then she turned and slipped inside.    

            Tyr stared after her for a moment, "This is a very bad idea." He muttered, and followed. 

*          *          *

            The next hours were spent wandering strangely featureless corridors, all composed of the same material as the outside hull. Yet where the outside hull was pitted and scarred by long ages of time and environment, the inside was pristine. The walls shimmered with opalescent fire as the lights moved across them. The effect was hypnotic and Tyr, much to his disgust, found himself just staring at the play of light in the walls for long seconds. 

            After yanking his attention away from the walls he growled in disgust, "There is nothing here. At least not that we can find now. Let's simply put a beacon on it and let a Sinti exploration team return to it. They will be much better equipped to do this than we are."

            Andomeda's main AI cut into the 've been analyzing the layout of the corridors and I think there is a pattern."

            Rommie nodded, "I was noticing that too. Take the first right, then straight along the corridor to the second left?"

            "Exactly." Andromeda replied.

            "Would either of you mind filling the rest of us in on the conclusion you have come to?" The Captain's voice sounded over the 

            "Sorry sir," Andromeda apologized. "The pattern of the corridors indicates a chamber of some size at the end of the route my avatar indicated."

            "Hunh…then by all means proceed."

            They had moved a short distance down the second corridor on the left when it simply ended. One moment they were in a small corridor and the next a large chamber. The walls of the room were black, not the shimmering black of the corridors, but a deep jet that seemed suck up light that fell upon it, giving nothing back.

Rommie looked around at the color of the walls, "Black, black and  black…I'm sensing a theme here."

Tyr just snorted.

Also unlike the corridors the room was not empty. There was a semicircle of pedestals in the center of the room and upon each as a simple stone tablet with words carved into them. Tyr and Rommie moved cautiously to examine them.

"Can you read what's written on them?" Beka's voice came clearly across the 

"I'm getting some strange energy readings from the tablets." Rommie said looking at Tyr, "Don't touch anything."

Tyr glanced back at her. "Do I look stupid?"

Rommie moved up to the first tablet. "No, I can't read it Beka. The language doesn't resemble anything in the Commonwealth database. No surprise really…"

"I can read this one." Tyr's statement interrupted her, but it was more the odd note in his voice that caused her to stop and look toward him.

He was standing in front of the pedestal midway through the arc staring down at the tablet. 

"Well, what does it say Tyr?" Beka's voice came over the comm's. Tyr didn't reply. Her voice became a little more concened, "Rommie, what's going on?" 

As Rommie came up beside Tyr he turned his head toward her and said, "It's in English."

Rommie stood silently staring at the writing on the million year old artifact of a long vanished civilization, and looking down at that single line, felt a sensation it took her a moment to identify.

"It says…" Tyr continued. "…Welcome, Andromeda."

_So that's what they mean when they say someone has walked over your grave_, she thought. 

 There was silence on the other end of the 

"Something is not right here." Tyr said his hand going to his weapon. "Lets get back to the ship."

"For once I'm in agreement. Lets go." Rommie began to move away from the pedestal.

In years to come Rommie would never entirely understand what happened, but one thing of which she was certain was that the floor had somehow…shifted underneath her when she started to move away, becoming almost fluid and throwing her toward the pedestal. 

The moment brushed the tablet there was a soundless detonation of force. Her sensors were instantly knocked off line as were her servomotor controls. She hit the floor unable to move as a void opened in the center of the room and the pressure of the atmosphere rushing out through it began to pull her toward the hole. 

Desperately she tried to reinitialize her systems. Every attempt failed. _This is it, _she thought as she neared the rift. _I_…a hand clamped onto her ankle…_Tyr!_

The Nietzschean had an arm wrapped around one of the pedestals and the other had her ankle in a crushing grip. She could see his arms quivering with the strain of holding her against the atmosphere screaming through the room. 

_He can't hold me for long_. Even as she watched his grip on the pedestal began to slip. The Tyr of a year ago might have simply let go, she was after all merely an avatar of the ship, and Harper could always build a new one. This Tyr, however, would not abandon a member of his crew and maintained a death grip on her ankle even as his grip on his anchor began to slip. _I can't let this happen. Tyr is not expendable_. In that moment she made her decision. Her link to her ship-self was still active, thankfully, and in a matter of milliseconds she sent everything she was, everything she wanted to say to her crew, to those who had become dear to her, to her main AI. 

_Goodbye_, she thought…and cut the link. 

In the chamber she met Tyr's eyes silently pleading with him to let her go.

"No!" He snarled, his voice roughened with the strain, even as his grip slipped another inch.

Rommie couldn't move, but she could still reroute power. She shunted power from other systems to the surface of the ankle. Tyr's hand spasmed with the sudden electrical discharge releasing his grip…and the wind snatched her away. 

As she plunged headlong into the abyss she heard him cry "Andromeda!" Her last thought was; _I think that's one of the first times he's actually used my name_, and then all thought was swallowed in darkness.       


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

_Systems reinitializing… _

_Power cell operational._

_Neural net active._

_Sensory systems reinitializing._

_Automatic repair systems activating…minor system disruptions, no appreciable damage._

Thought and sensation returned. The first thing Andromeda became aware of was a noise that her neural net identified as…_birdsong?_ Her eyes opened, only to find herself face down, nose pressed into an unexpectedly rough surface. She pushed herself to her hands and knees. _One standard gravity_, she thought, even as she identified the substance she had been lying on as grass. _What the Hell…_It appeared that she was on the surface of a planet. Looking around she found herself in a clearing in a lightly wooded area, with a hill rising to the west and a little south and the hazy outlines of mountains in the distance to the east.

_A spatial rift deposits me on the surface of a planet, probably light-years distant with barely a scratch. What are the odds of…_ she gave a mental snort of derision for that line of thought.  _Probably no more than the odds of finding a personal greeting on a million year-old alien tablet._

Looking around again she did a full spectrum scan with her sensors looking for signs of technology, or the rift. Nothing. She attempted, without any real hope, to initiate a link with her ship-self. Again, nothing. Getting to her feet she turned in a slow circle, searching, stretching her senses -human and not- as far as they could go. She was alone.

Since her inception she had never truly been alone, there had always been someone else present. First, the programmers and scientists at the institute and later, her crew. Even after the black hole, when she had lost everything she knew, there was still Dylan. He had not left her. 

Now, abruptly, there was no one.

Built into the Commonwealth AI's there was a drive, a need for interaction. After all, if one is the mind and soul of a starship with thousands of crew, one must have the desire to interact. Shivering, she thought of the two other AI's she had known who had ended up alone. Pax Mallengenic. Balance of Justice…Gabriel. Her heart had the familiar ache at the thought of him but it was overwhelmed by the growing surge of fear through her neural net.

She took a deep breath, something she had seen Dylan do when faced with stressful situations, and blew it out. _No. No, look around you. There is carbon in the atmosphere which indicates animal life, and chances are some of it is intelligent. You just need to find it._

Taking stock of her situation she examined what had, and hadn't, come through the rift with her. Immediately her hand went to her thigh holster. _Damn! No force lance._ Frowning she examined the kit on her belt that contained the medical pack, a small cutting plasma torch, a palm light, and a data flexi. It seemed to have come through all right…  

At that moment a noise, out of place in the surroundings and faint with distance, intruded on her audio sensors. Her head snapped around looking past the northern shoulder of the hill to the west. Placing the kit back, she turned up her sensors to their maximum gain and listened. 

A sound somewhere between a shriek and a scream resonated through the woods once again. Multiple sounds, and they were moving closer. Beneath those sounds were others she tentatively identified as noises of some sort of hoofed animals. _Or maybe they can find me…_

She turned and sprinted up the hill, gaining the crest in moments, and stood silently scanning the forest to the west. _There!_ She shifted her vision into the telescopic.

Jumping suddenly into clarity were ten riders, on what looked like horses. A single white horse bearing two riders raced out in front, while the nine pursued closely, trying to surround the one.     

Of the two riders being chased, the one guiding the horse appeared to be a woman. Long dark hair streamed out behind her as she urged her mount to greater speed, while the second, seated in front of her, appeared to be a child and was slumped over the front of the saddle. 

The riders pursuing were harder to make out, cloaked as they were from head to toe in enveloping black robes. She focused her sensors on the black riders, trying to get a better look at them. Shifting her focus out of the visual spectrum she saw…_Whoa! What are…Alright, to use one of Harper's expressions that's just freaky. The basic structure is…was human, but those other readings… I'm betting they're not the good guys._

At that moment one of the black riders, drawing near, stretched out his hand, reaching for the child in front of the woman.

_No! Definately not!_ With that thought, she was in motion down the hill, cutting across to intercept the riders. By the time she reached the base of the hill she was already at full speed. 

*          *          *

            As the Nazgul closed about them Arwen called out to her mount in the elf-tongue urging it to greater speed. The horse, sides heaving, strained forward and began to slowly pull away.

Hey eye caught a flicker of motion ahead of her. _All the Nine are behind me. _She thought._ Who…_Her eyes widened as they identified a woman, strangely garbed, running from an angle toward her. Her eyes widened still further as she perceived the impossible speed with which the stranger was closing the distance. 

She barely had time to hope that the stranger was not working with the Ring-wraiths when something streaked through the air past her and impacted the closest Nazgul in the head with enough force to knock it completely off its mount. The force of the unhorsed Nazgul's pull upon the reins jerked the animal's head around and caused it to stumble and fall. The animal fell directly in the path of two of the other Black Riders. One, its horse unable to avoid or jump over the fallen animal, also fell in a tangle of thrashing limbs. The other, as it reined in hard, its mount reared, and sent it crashing to the ground. Arwen was caught between astonishment and the urge to laugh; the stranger had thrown a rock.

As the strange woman came close she threw out a hand, pointing in the direction Arwen was racing and shouted something in a language she had never heard, yet the basic meaning was clear: ride on. 

Though loath to abandon this woman in the face of the enemy, Arwen knew that the Ring-bearer must be brought to safety. Even so, that did not prevent her from looking behind as stranger passed her.

Six of the Nazgul were still mounted. The lead two shifted to ride down the woman and trample her beneath their horses' hooves. As they neared, the stranger leapt upward, clearing the height of the horses' backs, stretched her arms out to the sides, and seizing both Nazgul, hurled them from their horses. The two hapless Black Riders came down directly in the path of the remaining Ring-wraiths, causing them to rein in their horses desperately to avoid trampling their own. 

In moments what had been nine charging horsemen had degenerated into a roiling turmoil of black bodies and dust. 

As the distance between them increased  Arwen could see the stranger was still on her feet. A Nazgul loomed out of the dust and wheeling forms, its sword drawn. The woman stepped in as the wraith swung and caught its hand, then, almost casually, ripped the sword from its grasp. Another wraith rose near her side, and she caught it with a back-handed blow that sent it into the dust again. At the same time she reversed the sword, then drove it into the chest of the wraith before her, burying it to the hilt and  ripping upward. Releasing the sword, she literally hurled the impaled wraith away. Yet the Ring-wraith never hit the ground. Its robes fluttered to the ground shapeless, empty, and Arwen perceived a shrill hollow wail that faded into nothing. 

_She has slain it._ Amazement and exultation warred within Arwen, and then the stranger and the Ring-wraiths passed out of sight in the trees.

*          *          *__

            _This is bad_, Andromeda thought as she ducked under the swing of one of the riders. When she had killed the…whatever it was, there had been backlash of some sort of energy back down her arm, overloading circuits and knocking out systems. Now her right arm hung uselessly at her side. Her repair nanos were already beginning to fix the problems, but full repair would take several hours. She caught sight of the sword she had used. It was a twisted withered thing now, the metal smoking like smoldering wood. _Okay, there's a lesson: use ranged weapons next time._

            A shriek split the air to her left and she lashed out at the rider in front of her sending it reeling backward. The rest of the riders were back on their feet and moving toward her. _This is very bad. Time for a strategic withdrawal_. Sparing one last glance to ascertain the locations of the rider's horses, and determining that they would not be following for at least a few minutes, she took off running along the white horse's trail.

            As the trees flew past she took a moment to wonder if she had done the right thing, interfering in a situation she knew nothing about. 

Swiftly she arrived at a slope that descended to a river, a pebbly ford crossing its breadth. Beyond the river was…_Damn! Why did she stop?_ The woman was kneeling on the far bank holding the child in her arms. _No, not a child_, she realized as she approached the river, a small man. He was badly injured, to judge by the fact that he was going into convulsions.

She splashed into the ford. The noise jerked the female's head up to look toward her. Two blue eyes examined Andromeda, taking in her Highguard jumpsuit and then her arm hanging dead at her side. 

An expression of concern entered the woman's face and she said something unintelligible to Andromeda. _That's not any language in my database_, she thought, as she knelt down beside the little man. She reached out with her good hand and passed it over his form, the sensors in her hand analyzing his bio-signs. She paused over his shoulder. _A puncture wound…his vitals are depressed, his body temperature is low. Assuming they were near human norm to begin with; a reasonable assumption considering his body is near identical to human. A general stimulant should help. But other than the puncture wound I can't get a clear reading on what's causing the symptoms._ Andromeda ran her hand over him again, just an inch above contact, this time passing over his chest. Her hand jerked, almost involuntarily, as she detected something there, under his cloths. Whatever it was, she didn't understand the contradictory readings she was getting from it. _That seems to be happening a lot in the last few minutes,_ she thought.

The woman, saying something, gently but firmly took hold of the hand and moved it away from the man's chest. _Okay, that means don't touch._

Reaching down she pulled out the medical pouch from the kit at her belt and removed the injector and a small dose of stimulant. She was about to put it to his jugular when the woman took hold of her hand again. 

"I'm trying to help," she said, gesturing to the wound.

The woman looked searchingly at her for a moment and then released Andromeda's hand.

With a small hiss from the injector she gave him the stimulant. Within moments the convulsions began to slow, his breathing to ease, and a little color return to his pale cheeks.

The woman rider began to say something, but stopped as Andromeda's head snapped around at the sound of hoof-beats from the crest above the opposite bank.

_Here comes round two_. Andromeda thought as she rose to her feet and, facing the riders, placed herself between them and the two people on her bank. _I hope the lady has enough sense to keep riding this time._ She heard the ringing of a sword being unsheathed behind her and almost sighed. _Obviously not._

Turning her head she said, "Get out of here!" Even knowing the woman couldn't understand her. 

The riders reined their horses up at the edge of the water, seeming for some reason, reluctant to cross the ford. One of the black riders spoke, its voice a hissing whisper.

The woman behind her replied in a challenging tone, and the eight riders drew their swords. Urging their horses forward they thundered into the water, kicking up sheets of spray. 

Andromeda tensed readying herself, when she heard the woman speaking behind her. The language was different, more lyrical then the one she had been speaking previously, and as she continued, her voice took on a strange echoing resonance. Had hairs on the back of Andromeda's neck been capable, they would have been standing up. She started to glance back at the woman, but suddenly noticed the upsurge in the water of the ford. 

The riders had hit the halfway point when a thunderous roar erupted upstream. Everyone's head turned to look. A solid wall of water crashed down the defile, and in the foam of the crest Andromeda could make out what looked to be the shapes of…horses.

Stepping swiftly back from the edge of the river she watched as the Black Riders tried, and failed to escape the deluge. In moments they were swept away. Andromeda looked after them for a few seconds and then turned to regard the woman, who was staring at her with just as much wonder and curiosity. She examined the woman closely, truly taking note for the first time, of the pointed ears, the smooth catlike grace, and the almost ethereal luminescence of the woman. 

"Where the hell have I landed?" she muttered.

*          *          *

            "…then she impaled the wraith upon its own sword, hurling it away from herself and killing it." Arwen said to her father. "I left sight of her moments later. When I made it to the ford Frodo's strength started to fail and I dismounted to tend to him. Shortly thereafter the stranger crossed the ford. She knelt by us and moved her hand in the air over Frodo's body as if searching for injury, but did not touch him. Yet she sensed the wound; her hand stopped over it, even covered as it was. She seemed puzzled by it. Her hand moved again as if to check him for injury a second time and…" Arwen paused, looked down for a moment and then looked up into her father's eyes. "Father, she sensed the Ring."

            Elrond took a deep breath and sat back, his eyes grave. After a moment they traveled from his daughter's face to meet the eyes of Glorfindel, who stood near.

            "You have met her, I have only had the chance to see her briefly. What are your thoughts on this matter my friend?"

            Glorfindel seemed to think deeply for a time, then shook his head, "Truly, I am at a loss. When Arwen told me that she was injured, and that you were needed at the Ring-bearer's side, I went to her to tend to her injuries. I thought she would be in great need of healing, for to even survive such a blow, to a thing as deadly as a Ring-wraith requires a tremendous hardiness."

            Arwen smiled a little, "You obviously did not listen enough to what I had told you of her."

            "Perhaps." Glorfindel sighed. "I simply did not credit it enough." Seeing Elrond's gaze upon him he explained, "When I reached her she was already healing; some use had already returned to her arm, although her hand was still unresponsive."

            His brow furrowed Elrond said, "Truly a doughty being."

            "Being indeed," Glorfindel murmured. Seeing the other two looking at him he again explained. "I could do nothing for her wound. It was not lack of skill or power, my healing simply could not touch what she was."

            Arwen eyebrows rose, "And what is she?"

            He looked steadily back at her and said simply, "I do not know."

"Could she be of the Maiar?" asked Elrond. "Taken form for some purpose in Middle-Earth?"

"I say again, I do not know." Glorfindel replied. "I sense no darkness or evil within her, yet nor do I sense anything of the powers of the West." 

Elrond sighed. "The greatest chance for harm has past, and she has done nothing but good, perhaps saving my daughter and the Ring-bearer both. She is welcome in my house." He rose out of the chair to his feet. "Perhaps Gandalf may be able to ascertain more of her nature and purpose when he returns. For now though I must return to Frodo. His life is yet in grave danger from the Morgul knife." He moved toward the door and then turned to look back, "Make sure all know to treat her with respect Glorfindel. One who has alone stood against the Nine, and slain one of their number, is not to be taken lightly." Then he turned and left the room.   

*          *          *

            Andromeda stood silently on the balcony of the room to which she had been escorted, staring silently into the waterfall overlooked by her vantage point. 

Six hours four minutes and twenty seven seconds. Her internal clock had been knocked out passing through the rift, but discounting that, it was how long she had been gone. Were they looking for her? How would they find her here? Wherever here was. 

They would try, she believed. Dylan considered her a member of his crew, in spite of her being an avatar of the ship. She smiled a little sadly. Stricly speaking she supposed she was more there than here; the majority of her "self" was contained within the ship.  In any case, Dylan would not give up without an exhaustive search. She had the feeling, though, that a search would turn up no trace of her. In the end Dylan would be forced to give up and turn the artifact over to the Sinti council for them to discover what they could. Again came the feeling that they wouldn't find her.

Yet she still hoped they would.

Evening was approaching. Dusk was gathering swiftly about the valley. She looked up, perhaps when night fell she could extrapolate a position from the stars and at least know where she was. 

As she waited, she thought back to the events of the last few hours, beginning with staring at the "elf" at the ford. She wasn't sure why her neural net had dredged that designation up, but she had to admit that it fit. These people certainly did fit the picture of the elves from Earth mythology. The two of them had stood studying one another for several minutes when Andromeda had detected several people approaching from their side of the ford, and further along the path into the valley. When Andromeda had moved to intercept them the elf had stopped her, apparently expecting them. 

Nearly a dozen more "elves" had arrived in moments, including one who embraced the female elf and then knelt next to injured man. There was enough similarity between him and the female elf for Andromeda to guess that this was a relation to her. Her brother or father perhaps?  

            The elf had examined Frodo closely then set his hand gently on the wound and closed his eyes. As he remained that way for several moments Andromeda had watched the injured man's vitals stabilize even further, though the elf had done nothing that she could detect. He had then gotten to his feet and started issuing orders to the rest of the elves; sending some off across the ford, while having others bring forward a litter with which to bear the injured man. He then asked a question of the female elf and she answered speaking swiftly and gestured at Andromeda. His gaze turned toward her and she found herself straightening up as if for inspection. His gaze had all the authority of an admiral behind it, backed, she somehow sensed, with a tremendous span of years and a deep wisdom. He held her gaze a moment and then turned back to the litter. They carried the litter swiftly away down the path the man-elf at its side.

            In a few moments she and the female elf were the only ones left at the ford. Andromeda was left wondering what to do with herself when the elf had taken her gently by the arm and gestured for her to accompany her down the path. They walked in silence, making their way up into the valley. The sound of rushing water soon became much more evident, and as they rounded a corner of the path, the valley was spread out before them. It was a narrow cleft cut into the rising terrain of the mountains. Multiple waterfalls tumbled down the surrounding cliffs, all feeding into the river.

            She had seen a house, tucked away in the valley; it was a large sprawling affair, built above and about the multitude of streams, pools, and falls. As she was taken to it she had observed the exquisite architecture and crafting present in the structure. It seemed crafted to be both protection from, and open to, the elements. Examining the complex designs and art that abounded in the house, she thought; _Someone has a lot of time on their hands_.

            Andromeda had been taken to suite of rooms in one wing of the house and the gestures the elves made seemed to indicate that these would be hers while she was here. Shortly after she had been left in the rooms, there had come a knock at the door. When she opened it she had found a tall elf with long golden hair standing on the other side. By gesture he indicated that he was here to tend to her arm. She tried to tell him it was not necessary, moving the arm around to demonstrate it was getting better, but he would have none of it. So, with a sigh, she sat quietly as he examined her arm. As he worked his face gained a look of surprise and then bafflement.

            Andromeda, watching this, muttered, "If you are doing what I think, you're trying to heal an android." She looked into his eyes as his brow creased. "And that just isn't going to work."   

            When the elf had finally left her after another attempt, he seemed mildly disturbed by his failure, and kept glancing at her oddly. No one had come to the room since.

            Sighing she walked down the length of the balcony. A few of the stars were beginning to come out but it would be a half hour or more before enough were visible, even to her eyes, to take any sort of measurement. She came to the corner of the balcony that looked out over main entry courtyard to the house.  Minutes passed, and she could see lights burning in various rooms and windows, see the movement of people and hear the occasional murmur of voices. Standing silently in the falling dusk, watching the life around her, Andromeda felt intensely alone, and far, far from home. 

After a short time she picked up sounds of the approach of a group of people along the main path to the house. Shaking herself free of her thoughts she watched the entryway to the courtyard.

The group that entered was a strange one. There were two men in it, one a tall, dark haired man in travel worn cloths with a sword at his side. The other was an old man with long gray hair and beard, dressed in gray robes, wearing a battered gray hat and carrying a staff. And they were human, at least from what her sensors could detect from this distance. The other three also caught her attention. They were of the same kind as injured man at the ford. They all seemed to be quite anxious to get into the house. _The other one was their companion perhaps?_ Also with them were several of the elves, who were earlier sent beyond the ford, their purpose now clear.

Soon the group moved inside and the courtyard was still again. Andromeda stood for a while longer and then paced slowly back into her room. She sat in one of the chairs near the fireplace and remained there silent, thinking. _Humans._ _What does it mean? Am I on a human colonized planet? If so why is the technology so primitive? And the language, it's not anything I have ever heard. _She frowned. Too many questions and no answers.

She remained in thought for long minutes, her neural net, creating and discarding theories, calculating probabilities. She kept coming up with: _Not enough information_. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden awareness of someone approaching her door; a gentle rapping broke the silence.

Moving to the door she took hold of the handle and opened it. Standing in the doorway was the old man from the courtyard. She gestured for him to enter, and inclining his head to her and murmuring something, he moved past her into the room.

His voice was deep, roughened by years, and yet had a velvety warmth to it. She turned on her active sensors to get a better look at him as she closed the door. The instant she scanned him his head swung around toward her and he met her eyes.

_Did he feel that?_ She scanned him again.

He turned to face her fully and cocked his head to the side, his blue eyes alive with startlement and curiosity.

_He did!  _


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

They stood, staring at each other across the arm's length between them, each mirroring the surprise of the other. Moments passed, and Andromeda saw an amused twinkle growing in the old man's eyes. She felt a sudden bubble of amusement at the impromptu staring contest between them, and her mouth began to twitch. A smile worked its way onto the man's weathered old face and he began to chuckle. It was a deep rich sound, full of mirth, and Andromeda found herself laughing as well; feeling suddenly far less despairing and lonely.

            As her laughter subsided she gestured for the old man to take one of the seats by the fireplace, and as he sat down she placed herself in the other. Once settled, their staring contest resumed; though the man now had a kindly smile on his face, his eyes still glittered with curiosity.

            Taking a few milliseconds she reviewed the results of her sensor scan of him. He wasn't human, as she had first thought. His bodily systems and structure were a close match, but there were anomalies in the readings that seemed to indicate an energy of some sort contained within his form. Her sensors couldn't quite get a clear reading on it, saying it both was and wasn't there. _Clearly it is, though, since he felt my scan._

At that moment her arm chose to give a little spasmodic twitch as her repair nanos completed another portion of circuitry. Sensation flooded back into her hand as it reconnected to what passed, as her central nervous system.

            The twitch caught his attention and his brow furrowed in an expression of concern. Leaning forward, he reached out to take hold of her hand. 

            With a raised eyebrow she let him. "Someone already tried healing that. If you're going to try too you're wasting your time."

            He looked up at her face as she spoke, and then returned his gaze to her arm. His touch was sure, yet very gentle, as he probed it softly with his fingers.

            Jerking suddenly straight in her chair she looked at where his fingers touched her arm. "What…?" She felt something, but the sensation wasn't emanating from any of the sensory circuits in her arm. Running a diagnostic she found two things. One, the circuits were working perfectly, and two, in spite of her feeling the sensation, it wasn't registering on any of her hardware. 

The sensation was akin to encountering another AI in a computer network. It was a gentle brush of presence and query. Almost like that, but also distinctly different, and the contact did not come through any computer network. It seemed pure mind and …she had no reference point but…spirit. She sat staring at where he held her arm, trying to process what she was sensing. When she finally looked up at him he was looking at her with an expression that was perplexed. 

"What did…" She tried again and stopped. _This language barrier is becoming too much of a problem._ _Well, it may take a little bit but we can do something about that_. 

Setting aside her disturbed thoughts for later she pointed to herself and said, "Andromeda."

His eyebrows rose a little and then with a small smile he indicated himself and said, "Gandalf."

Andromeda reached down and touched the small table next to her chair and, raising her eyebrows, looked at him inquisitively.

There was a full smile on his face this time as he pointed at it and said a word.

She repeated it, clearly, and then pointed to the chair.

So it went for several hours. When they had exhausted the objects in the room they moved out onto the balcony and named everything they could see from that vantage. From there he took her walking through parts of the house, pointing out objects, and the actions of people; trying to get across the more subtle words. Even as he taught her, he observed her. At times his eyes were bright and curious, at others thoughtful. 

_I hope his opinion is positive_, she thought, aware that a great deal about her future depended upon the goodwill of the people living here.

It was late into the night when he finally left; escorting her back to her rooms, he bid her goodnight. 

*          *          *

            Gandalf sat staring into the crackling fire, and puffing slowly on his pipe. With the occasional murmur of a word he would break his self-imposed silence, but mostly he sat still and quiet, deep in thought. The firelight cast flickering shadows, both over his form, and the expanse of the hall around him. The Hall of Fire was generally empty, except upon days of feast and merriment, bereft of any illumination but a fire burning in the great hearth, and altogether a good place to sit and think. The stranger who called herself Andromeda had given him a good deal to think about, and the story told to him by Arwen added layers to the already complex thoughts in his mind.

His worry over Frodo often intruded upon his ruminations, but was set aside. Frodo was in the care of Elrond, and thus in hands far more adept at healing than his own.

Long hours passed, and still he sat by the fire, moving occasionally to refill and relight his pipe, until finally, in the hours of the early morning, a presence behind him brought him out of his thoughts. Gandalf turned his head and observed as Elrond, moving with silence only elves posses, passed him and knelt next to the hearth. Taking up the poker he stirred the coals of the now burnt down fire and placed several more logs atop them. Gandalf waited to speak until he had settled into another chair close by. 

"How is Frodo?" He asked.

"Still in grave danger," Elrond replied, staring into the fire. "I believe a part of the knife broke off into the wound, yet I have been unable to find it. Glorfindel is with him now. I needed a moment's rest before attempting to locate it again."

Elrond turned to him, "What of our mysterious guest? Is she of the Maiar, as I have suspected?" 

 It was Gandalf's turn to stare into the flames. "Of the Maiar? No. In the sense of her there are similarities, and yet in all other respects she is totally different. She is something I have never encountered before, and that is saying much. What I sense from her feels…alien… to Middle-Earth, as if she had come not from here, but from another place."

Elrond's eyes filled with wonder, "Another place…another world? Perhaps…" He focused questioningly on Gandalf, "Did Iluvatar create more than this one?" 

Gandalf sighed and shook his head, "I do not know. Perhaps not even the Valar know. For ever was their thought occupied with this world. These questions, right now, we cannot answer. She, however, may be able to answer some of them soon."

"She does not speak any of our languages Gandalf," Elrond said, shaking his head. "I think asking questions of her might be rather difficult."

Gandalf smiled, "I think she will speak the common tongue quite passably before the end of tomorrow. She learns with remarkable speed."

Surprise was evident on Elrond's face. 

Gandalf chuckled, "My friend, she looks like one of the race of Man, but even as you have surmised, she is not. Do not ascribe the limitations of Men to her, or I feel that you will find yourself wrong on every count."

"So you have spoken with her?"

Waving his hand in a negative gesture, Gandalf said,  "Only briefly, most of the time was taken by the learning of words, and structures of speech. When I left her it was late in the night. Her name, it appears, is Andromeda"

"Andromeda," Elrond repeated. "We must speak with her soon, as there is a point which troubles me: she sensed the Ring. Not even you could do that, after long exposure to it."

"Ahhh, yes. The Ring," Gandalf face was troubled as he turned back to the flames. "It is possible, that with her nature so strange to this world, that the Ring would have no hold over her."

"Or it might." Elrond countered.

Gandalf sighed, "Yes it might. Though she has already demonstrated astonishing resistance to such power in the healing of her arm from the blow to the Ring-wraith. In killing one of the Nazgul, she has struck the enemy a grievous blow, and one he will not soon forget. When his servants report back to him, he will doubtlessly perceive her unique nature, and then she will have not only his enmity, but also his interest. And that," he continued slowly, "Is not something to be desired." 

   They sat in silent thought for a long moment, when Elrond stood. "I must return to Frodo and again attempt to find the splinter. I leave the matter of…Andromeda in your hands."

*          *          *

            Andromeda watched as the light of the rising sun crept slowly down the walls of the valley to touch upon the roof and gables of the house. _Mansion is more like it_, she thought. _What did Gandalf call it? The Last Homely House._

            There were still gaps in her vocabulary, mostly in the realm of the more abstract words, but she had spent some of the night processing her memories of what had been said around her since she had arrived. From the conversations, Andromeda had been able to add a great deal to what Gandalf had taught her, particular in terms of the structure and organization of sentences. She now felt that she could actually hold a conversation with the people here. In addition, during her analysis she had come to the conclusion that there were two other languages she had heard spoken, but did not have enough information to come to any conclusions about them.

            Turning away from the balcony, Andromeda made the sudden decision to have a look around. She had gotten to see some of the house last night with Gandalf, but there was a great deal she had not seen. Her hosts had not given any indication that she was confined to these rooms, so she took that as an invitation to explore.

            Leaving her rooms she turned toward the outside, wanting to investigate several of the garden areas she had seen last night with Gandalf. Passing through the corridors of the house she encountered, singly or in groups, several elves. She was surprised when they bowed or nodded respectfully at her as she passed, but managed an awkward acknowledgement in return. 

            _Either they are **very** polite to visitors_, she thought, _or this has something to do with those riders I fought yesterday. _

Reaching the garden she had seen last night, she stood looking about for a moment, then started down a path. The trail meandered slowly through the trees, and looking ahead she saw that it crossed a stream on its way to a gazebo on the far side.

            Her footsteps made little noise as she stepped onto the bridge crossing the stream. Stopping at the center of the span, she looked upstream following it back to the pool and waterfall that fed it. Gazing at it she watched the sunlight refract on the spray from the falls and create a small rainbow in the air. _Trance would love it here_. She smiled a little. E_ven the new Trance._

             Turning, she continued on across the span, and reaching the other side stepped into the clearing containing the gazebo. A sudden gust of wind moved the branches of the trees, sending leaves, colored in the gold and red shades of autumn spiraling slowly down through the air. 

            Andromeda's eyes, first following one of the leaves drifting through the air of the clearing, focused beyond them on the man sitting under one of the trees. He was sitting on a bench formed by the intersection of the root systems of two trees. The man's back was settled comfortably against the bark of the tree and an open book sat in his lap. 

            He had looked up from his book when Andromeda stepped into the glade and he now met her eyes across the breadth of it. 

            _That is the man from the courtyard last night, who came in with the small ones and Gandalf, _she thought._ Humm, maybe this is a good chance to ask a few questions about where I am and what it was I stepped into yesterday._

Andromeda stepped forward, walking across the clearing toward him. As she approached, he rose to his feet and gave her a slight bow. Taking in his dark hair, gray eyes and slightly unshaven face she stopped within a few feet of him. He was definitely human.

            "Hello," she said.

            His eyebrow rose with surprise. "Greetings lady," his head cocked slightly in curiosity. "I was told you could not speak our language."

            His voice was soft, intense; in some aspects it reminded her of Tyr, but this man had an aura of grave nobility that Tyr lacked.

            She gave a little half shrug in response to his question, and said, "I spent a good portion of the night learning from Gandalf."

            "Ahh," he made a sound of understanding. "I am pleased that you have Lady, for it gives me opportunity to convey to you my thanks." His eyes were very earnest, staring into hers. 

            Andromeda blinked in confusion, "For what?"

            "For your actions, yesterday before the Ford. From what I have been told you quite likely have saved the lives of both Frodo and Lady Arwen."

             "In that case, you're welcome," she said. "Though I have some questions about exactly what it was that I did." She gestured back toward the house. "Everyone has been bowing and giving me strange looks since I arrived yesterday, and I'm not entirely certain why."

            "You saved the life of Lady Arwen, who is the daughter of the Lord of this house; Elrond Half-elven. In the act of doing so, you stood off the Nine, and slew one of their number." He gestured for them to sit on the bench, and they did, the book between them.

            "What exactly are the Nine?" She asked. "They're like nothing I've ever seen."

            His voice was quiet and his eyes thoughtful as he said, "They were once great kings of men, and in their lust for power, they each, unquestioning, accepted a ring from Sauron. One by one the darkness claimed them, and now they are slaves to his will. They are hollow, empty things, yet they hold great power, and there are few, even among the mighty, that could do as you have done." 

            Andromeda closed her eyes for a moment and there was a little frown of concentration on her face. When she opened her eyes and looked at him she said, "I'm a stranger to this place, I don't have the background knowledge to make sense of the things that you're talking about." She opened her hands in a helpless gesture. 

            "That is something I believe we can remedy Lady. Some of the tales you should hear from others in this house, who are far more capable of telling the old stories than I. But I shall endeavor, in brief, to tell you of the history of Middle-Earth and its current troubles, in which you find yourself embroiled."

            He paused, and after a moments thought, began to speak. He told of the elves, the dwarves, and men. He spoke of the powers in the West, of lost Numenor, and of the Dark Lord Sauron and his many servants. He spoke of all these things, and many more, until the sun rose high into the sky and began its descent back to the horizon. 

            It was a couple of hours after noon when Andromeda heard voices in the direction of the bridge. 

            "Come on Merry, maybe he's over this way."

            "Slow down Pippin, there's no need to break our necks finding him!"

            The man had by this time heard them as well, and he said, "It appears they have sent out searchers for us Lady."

            Just then two short figures burst into the glade. "See, there he is Merry…" Pippin stopped suddenly, and his eyes grew wide. "Merry," he said out of the corner of his mouth to Merry. "That must be her."

            Andromeda cocked one of her eyebrows up and said dryly, "Yes, it would be me."       

"You talk like Gandalf!"Pippin exclaimed. 

Merry jabbed him in the side with his elbow.

"What?" Pippin gave Merry a wounded look. "She has his accent."

"That's rude, we don't know her," Merry hissed into his ear.

"It's alright Merry. I should talk like Gandalf," Andromeda replied smiling at the antics of the two. "I learned to speak your tongue from him." 

"So," she said. "The two of you were looking for me and…" Trailing off she turned to the man. "I've realized I don't even know your name." 

            "He gave her a half bow, "Aragorn son of Arathorn, at your service Lady." 

            _I think I like the manners here better than at home_, she thought, and she smiled at him. "My name is…"

            "Andromeda," Pippin chimed in, "though it's an odd type of name if you ask me."

            He got another elbow in the ribs from Merry. 

            Andromeda smled wryly, gave a little shrug and said, "That's one of my designations. Depending upon which me we are talking about, you could call me Andromeda, Andromeda Ascendant or Shining Path to Truth and Knowledge Artificial Intelligence model GRA 112, XMC-10-284." She looked straight at him and a smile quirked the corner of her mouth. "Most of my friends just call me Rommie. Andromeda could be considered a little more formal, but without going overboard."

Pippin, his eyes wide, just blinked back at her with a baffled look on his face.

Merry said, "There are other yous?" 

Both Aragorn's eyebrows had shot up.

There was a moment of silence, and then Aragorn  turned back to the hobbits and gave a gentle verbal nudge. "You were seeking us because…"

"Oh, right," Merry said. "Gandalf wanted to see you. He wanted to talk to you a bit more about what had happened on the road here. There wasn't the chance last night, what with getting here late and with Frodo and all." 

He had an expression on his face as if remembering something, and he turned to Andromeda, "Thank you for what you did miss…ah…Lady Andromeda. We greatly appreciate what you did to help cousin Frodo. If there is anything I can do for you, well, Meriadoc Brandybuck at your service." He gave her a clumsy bow.

Pippin once again spoke up, "Peregrin Took as well."

            Aragorn stood, and said, "It seems I must leave. I would be happy to continue this conversation at a future time."

            "I think Gandalf will be looking for you too Lady," Merry said. "He said something about going to find you when we left him."

            "We'll just go tell him we found you both and save him the bother." Pippin grinned cheerily and took off toward the bridge. 

            Merry, heaving a sigh followed him.

            "So those are Hobbits," Andromeda said, staring after them.

            "Indeed they are Lady. They are a most…surprising people, filled with hidden depths that are belied by their appearance." 

            Aragorn studied her out of the corner of his eye for a long moment until she turned to him and said, "What?"

            "I am considering similarities, please forgive me if I offend you Lady," he said. "But you do not look as if you are capable of what you have done. I have battled the Nazgul before, and I know of very few who could have endured simply facing them, and yet, you not only did so, but killed one of their number."

            She looked at him for a moment, and her eyes lighted on the book, forgotten on the bench. Reaching down, she picked it up, and placed it in his grasp. "There is an old saying where I come from Aragorn: never judge a book by its cover."

            He looked down at the book in his hand and abruptly laughed. It was a quick burst of merriment, but it lifted the grave air from about him, and left his eyes dancing as he looked at her, "Indeed, Lady Andromeda, words of wisdom, and ones that I shall henceforth pay great attention to." 

            Still smiling he made a sweeping gesture for them to follow the Hobbits.

*          *          *

            Elsewhere, a great throne hall; a place wrapped in shadow and eternal night, the darkness broken only by the searing, hideous light of its Lord. A great being, composed of, and cloaked in fire and darkness, waited on the throne; at times taking the seeming of a great lidless eye, wreathed in flame, its gaze cast outward beyond the walls of the room. Stonewalls were little barrier to a being such as this, even after how terribly far he had fallen.    

            Were one to stand in that dreadful place, the awful weight of darkness and fear, the total absence of hope, would crush all light from the soul. That room was a place of utter horror. 

            It was to that place the spirits of the Ring-wraiths came, standing before their Master un-bodied and humbled, trembling under the ghastly weight of his gaze. The chief of the Nazgul, the Witch-King of Angmar, slunk forward like whipped dog, to stand alone before the throne and give his accounting of what had transpired.

            Moments later a blast of terrible rage shook Barad-dur to its foundations. All the twisted, evil creatures, of the Plateau of Gorgoroth quailed in fear for miles around as even the gray twilight of that place dimmed, and was filled with the burning heat of their Master's rage.

            Slowly, as all creatures around him cowered in abject fear, that terrible fire cooled, and cunning crept back into his thoughts. And the thoughts of that vast mind turned toward Rivendell, and this new being that had entered into the world. 

            There in the deepest shadows of Mordor, his dark thought began to take shape, and slowly, were there anyone who could perceive it, Sauron began to smile.      


	4. chapter 4

Chapter 4

By Verbosity

Andromeda watched, with all the avid intensity of a focused AI, as Aragorn ducked under the swinging sword of his opponent and brought his own up to strike through the opening that was left. His adversary shifted smoothly out of the way, while bringing his sword up to block. Their blades locked for a moment, and they looked eye to eye for a brief instant before whirling away, only to come again at one another in a flurry of blows, deflections, and feints.

             The sounds of clashing metal rang through the clearing as the elf parried Aragorn's blow then flowed to the side with a smooth grace Andromeda found more reminiscent of some of the feline species she had encountered than anything related to human. 

            She once again examined the data from the subroutine she was running on her analysis of the sparing match. Frowning she tweaked one of the input variables. _91 percent accuracy, not bad, but I must be missing something._

            In the center of the clearing the latest clash of metal had a ring of finality about it as Aragorn's sword was knocked from his grip to land several yards away in the short grass. 

            Breathing hard, his brow glistening with the sweat of the last couple of hours, he bowed to the elf and said, "It seems I must continue to practice if I am to best you Erestor."

            The elf's breathing was untroubled as he returned Aragorn's bow and said, "Do not be discouraged Estel, the world was still young when first I took up a sword. For one who has so few years in comparison, your skill is most remarkable." 

            Inclining his head to Erestor in acknowledgement of praise, he then turned toward Andromeda. "Lady," he said. "Has this sufficed for your purpose?"

            Andromeda looked steadily at him, a touch of exasperation in her expression. "I've told you Aragorn," she said. "If you really feel the need to use "Lady" in formal situations then do so, but anywhere else please just call me Andromeda or Rommie." She shook her head. "Among friends good manners have limits." 

            Aragorn raised his eyebrow in mock disbelief. "A limit to good manners Andromeda? Such a thing is not possible." There was a teasing note in his voice.    

Erestor stood a little to the side, smiling slightly at the interplay between the two.

"Indeed," a new voice spoke, with an undertone of amusement, from the clearing's edge. "I have always considered his manners to be one of his appealing qualities." Arwen moved into the glade and walked over to stand beside Andromeda.

As she came close, Andromeda smiled at her. Arwen had been taking time every day to spend with her, talking with her or showing different parts of life here in Rivendell, and a friendship had begun to develop between them.

"I had wondered where you had spirited my love off to." She said to Andromeda, returning the smile, "To what purpose was this?" She gestured to the center of the glade where Aragorn and Erestor had been sparing.

Andromeda answered, "I told you that people don't generally use swords where I come from, but they're about all you use here. So I thought it would be a good idea to learn before I had a situation where I needed it."

Arwen looked slightly puzzled. "If you wish to learn," she said, looking from Aragorn to Andromeda. "Why do you not have one of them teach you, rather than simply watch?"

Aragorn shrugged helplessly. "I would gladly have done so, but she insisted that observing would be sufficient." He said gesturing to Andromeda.

Andromeda looked back and forth between them, at Arwen's puzzled expression and Aragorn's baffled. She gave a deep sigh and shook her head. Holding out her hand she gestured for Aragorn to give her his sword.

He looked at her for a moment, his gaze going from her hand to her eyes, and then a slight smile came to his face. "Never judge a book by its cover," he murmured. 

Arwen and Erestor looked at him in confusion as he handed over the sword to Andromeda. 

As she took it she gave him a smirk and said, "You're learning."

She strode out to the center of the clearing, giving the sword a few swings, calculating the weight, force, and torque ratios on the movements of the weapon. Adding the new data to the subroutines she had been working on she turned to face Erestor.

"Well, are you going to attack or just stand there?" She inquired grinning.

Glancing once at Aragorn and Arwen, he moved gracefully to the center of the clearing opposite her. He stood, still for a moment, his gaze appraising, then flowed into effortless blur of motion.

_Yup, definitely faster than most humans_, she thought as she deflected the sword that was suddenly out of its sheath and coming at her left side.

Part of her attention was focused on the calculations of force, deflection angles, and movement predictions directing the motion of her sword. Another part observed Erestor's technique and movements, adding to her growing database. The last part coordinated the overall movement of her body to derive the maximum effect from the operations of the other two. 

They separated, circling, after a flurry of blows was exchanged; Andromeda had managed to deflect or parry every one and get in a few good assaults of her own.

Erestor, moving smoothly as a cat, spoke, "This is the first time you have held a sword Lady Andromeda?" 

"Yes," she said. "As I told you, we don't use them much where I come from. We've developed other ways of killing."

His head cocked, and a considering look flashed momentarily into his eyes, and then was discarded as a keen focus returned to them. Sword flashing, he came at her with renewed speed and fury.

_Oh, yes. He definitely has faster reflexes than human_. She began to grin. _But I'm not human_.

Under normal circumstances Andromeda's processing speed, particularly in her ship-self, was so far beyond human there was no point in comparing them. Even as she was now, merely an android with no link to her central ship processor, her reaction speed could still far exceed that of any human, or elf. 

Their swords locked, and over the crossed steel Erestor caught sight of her grin. His brow furrowed as he considered it. 

Andromeda suddenly exerted her strength against his sword. The force of it threw the elf back several feet, only his inhuman reflexes saving him from falling, and unexpectedly he found himself on the receiving end of and avalanche of blows that came with increasing force and power.

Aragorn and Arwen watched as Erestor, suddenly on the defensive began to back away parrying and twisting desperately to avoid blows. Aragorn watched in amazement, while Arwen remembered the speed with which Andromeda had moved when fighting the Nazgul. 

Andromeda watched Erestor's form as she continued to increase her speed and the force of her blows. He was dealing surprisingly well with them, managing to deflect the ones that he was unable to move away from. Unfortunately for him Andromeda was moving too fast for him to get in any counter strokes, and he could only retreat. 

Finally one of Andromeda's blows impacted his sword with force enough to tear it entirely from his grasp, flinging it across the clearing to the edge of the woods.

"I yield!" Erestor said, flinging his arms wide.   

As Andromeda slipped into a relaxed posture Aragorn and Arwen came forward. 

Erestor was breathing heavily, and flexing and massaging his stinging hands. Studying her relaxed posture, slow even breathing and lack of sweat, he said, "You were holding back."

Andromeda nodded. "I can actually move a fair bit faster than that if I have to," she held the sword out to Aragorn as he came beside her. "I'm also capable of exerting more force."

Erestor stared at her another moment then shook his head. "I believe I shall refrain from crossing swords with you in a true fight, Lady Andromeda, if you do not mind overmuch." He smiled a little. "I have not yet wearied of the world and would remain in it yet a little longer." 

Aragorn, who had taken back his sword and sheathed it again at his side, spoke, "Your speed and strength are astonishing, Andromeda, but…" he appeared to be considering his next words carefully.

Andromeda anticipating him said, "But you see holes in my technique?"

"Yes," he replied with an apologetic shrug. "Were it not for your speed and strength you would not have defeated Erestor."

"No I couldn't," she said. "My subroutine is only about 91 percent effective." She gave him a grin. "However, I am that strong and that fast, so I should be able to compensate." 

"Subroutine, Andromeda?" Arwen queried, giving voice to the other's puzzled expressions. "I am not familiar with that word."

"Never mind," Andromeda said. _It's not something I can easily explain to you, and I'm not sure that explaining all the things associated with it would be such a good idea,_ she thought.

Diverting the conversation from the question, she asked, "So, are you ready to head back to the house?"

*          *          *

   The previous three days had passed quickly for Andromeda. After that first morning in the garden when she had met Aragorn her days had been full. She had set to learning about her new environment with great vigor, spending time speaking with various elves and sundry other inhabitants of Rivendell. She found herself often talking long into the night with Gandalf in the Hall of Fire. A deep affection had begun to form within her for the old wizard, and they spent hours conversing about various subjects, ranging from the weather to the nature of life. In these conversations the subjects sometimes strayed into areas that Andromeda did not feel comfortable speaking about yet, not knowing what kind of reactions the revelation of her nature would provoke. Gandalf seemed to sense she was holding something back, but did not begrudge it to her at all, taking her change of subject with good humor and turning the conversation down a different path.  A subject that their conversations had quickly focused upon, in the beginning, was the possibility of somehow returning her home. Gandalf's gaze had been sympathetic and gentle, as he had informed her that he was aware of no way to return her to the place she had come from. Indeed, until she had arrived, he would have been unaware that there was anyplace, other than this world, to return her too.

Over the course of the last few days Andromeda had begun to accustom herself to the thought that she would find no way to return home from this side of the rift. She had not abandoned the faint hope that Harper and the rest of her crew would find a way to reach her, but she was forced to accept that as a very unlikely course of events.

On the first day, after the morning she had talked with Aragorn, and returned to her rooms from the meeting with him and Gandalf, she had been sitting at her desk looking at several maps of Middle-Earth that Gandalf had procured for her, when a knock had sounded at the door. It had been Arwen. She had come to thank Andromeda, and give her a gift. 

Andromeda had tried to tell her that gifts were not necessary but Arwen insisted, and she found herself being escorted to see another elvish woman who appeared to be a maker of clothes. This woman had taken measurements while Arwen had said that since Andromeda had had only the clothes she was wearing at the time she arrived, it hardly behooved the hospitality of the elves to let her remain that way when she was such an honored guest. And so they would have several sets of clothes made for her.

Andromeda had looked at the dresses that Arwen and the other elf-woman were wearing for long seconds, when Arwen followed her gaze and asked if there were something wrong.

Andromeda had replied carefully, "No, no, your clothes are beautiful." She turned to the seamstress. "However, on the subject of functionality…we need to talk."

   That talk had resulted in the clothes Andromeda now wore, and the three other sets that were now in the closet. There were no skirts or dresses, just pants, or in one case a pants-like garment. A few pieces of the outfits were longer and more flowing than she would have liked, but he seamstress had taken great care that they not interfere with movement, and, she had to admit; the effect when she was in motion wasn't too shabby. The colors consisted of browns, grays, and some reds, with a hint of black here and there for effect. Looking them over she was forced to conclude that elves had an excellent sense of fashion. She was still a little bemused by one of the sets however. It was a little more dress-like than the other three. The legs, while separate, were loose and tended to drape so that when she was not moving they appeared as though they were a single piece, and could easily be mistaken for a skirt. The top was also a little more elaborate, showing many of the colors of autumn, and had a flowing quality to it. When presenting it to her Arwen had insisted that she should have something to wear to more formal occasions. Sighing, and remembering the various diplomatic functions hosted on her ship-self at home, she had acquiesced.

She had continued her talk with Aragorn on another day, and, as he had promised, he had taken her to some of the elder elves in Rivendell and they had told her the old tales in true elvish fashion, painting a picture of the elder days with astonishing vividness and clarity. 

Andromeda still found the immortality of the elves remarkable, no other species she had ever encountered had such longevity. Other than a few of the silicate based races, AI's usually had the longest life spans. Andromeda's ship-self, with proper care and maintenance could last a thousand years. If her consciousness were then placed into another computer system, she might live longer still, yet even that did not compare to some of the elves she had just met, whose ages were in the five digits.

She had also spent some time with Merry and Pippin. They had introduced her to an old Hobbit living here named Bilbo, and had taken her briefly to see the young Hobbit she had helped to save, Frodo. She had spent only a short time there, as Elrond had been intently bent over the wound on Frodo's shoulder, apparently trying to find something in the wound itself. Andromeda had thought about offering to try and help, but there was still something messing with her readings of the Hobbit's wound, and without proper a reading, she might do more harm than good. She'd also been able to meet another Hobbit, one Samwise Gamgee, who had been sitting anxiously in a chair in one corner of the room near Frodo's bed.   

No one had said anything specifically, but Andromeda had gotten the sense that there was something special about the Hobbit in that bed, and that something related to whatever it was that was remarkable about him was about to occur. The projections her neural net ran through kept returning to the odd readings she had received from the object Frodo had been carrying under his shirt that day at the ford. 

*          *          *

"Strider!" The shout came from aside as the group approached the house. "Hoy! Wait a moment!"

The members of the group turned to look as Pippin came barreling out of one of the little side paths and nearly fell over trying to avoid running into Erestor.

The elf neatly slipped out of the way of the reeling Hobbit, then reached out and steadied him with a hand to the shoulder.

"Careful young Hobbit." Erestor said, smiling, his voice full of kind laughter. "What momentous events have transpired that you rush about so?" There was a gentle teasing in his voice.

Andromeda had noted that the all elves seemed to quite enjoy the presence Hobbits in their home, taking pleasure in the open eyed wonder displayed by them at the House and its inhabitants. Many of the elves also enjoyed gently teasing the Hobbits, particularly Pippin and Merry, about the various expressions that crossed their faces when introduced to yet another facet of elvish life. 

Andromeda, watching Erestor, grinned a little. _Well_, she thought. _If you live as long as they do you'd better have a healthy sense of humor_. 

Pippin, catching his breath from his run through the woods, was far too excited to notice Erestor's teasing. His breathing finally returning to a more normal rhythm, he looked up at Aragorn. "Gandalf sent me to find you. I've been looking for you for almost three candlemarks now." The Hobbit was grinning, a thrilled expression on his face. "Master Elrond apparently managed to get out the splinter from the Morgul Knife last night and now Frodo is awake." 

Aragorn's face broke into a wide smile and he clapped Pippin on the shoulder. "Wonderful news Pippin."

"Master Elrond says he'll probably sleep the rest of the day away, but that he will be able to be up and about by evening." 

Arwen, taking Aragorn's arm, said, "Perhaps you should go and see him my love. I know how his hurt has concerned you." 

Looking back into her eyes he said, "Knowing he is well, relieves my heart, but I believe he needs sleep far more than a visit from me. I will see him soon enough." Smiling, he said, "There will, no doubt, be a feast this evening."

   "Everyone will be invited," Aragorn said, looking at Andromeda. "It will present an opportunity for you to acquaint yourself with those you have not yet been introduced to. I believe that dwarves from Erebor and elves from the Havens arrived yestereve. No doubt they will be at the feast as well."

Andromeda noticed Arwen looking at her with such an amused twinkle in her eye that she felt a twinge of nervousness. 

"Of course," Arwen said. "With such distinguished guests, one must be attired appropriately."

_Uh oh_. Andromeda thought. 

Arwen continued her voice regal, "Since you, as you have told me, have no experience with the dress of our peoples I will assist you in preparing for the feast."

Andromeda started to protest, but Arwen waved it down.

"I insist," her voice was final, but with an undertone of amusement.

Andromeda caught sight of Aragorn out of the corner of her eye. As well as Arwen, he was aware of her distaste for anything resembling a dress, and his mouth was twitching suspiciously.

"Not a word," she said menacingly through gritted teeth, pointing at him. 

Light musical laughter burst out from her right. Whipping her head around she cast a semi-serious glare at Erestor, and he, his eyes dancing with hilarity and comprehension, just stared right back. 

Andromeda turned and stalked away down the path in the direction of the house, muttering something about elves and their sense of humor. 

Pippin looked around, at Erestor who was still laughing, and at Aragorn and Arwen who were both smiling. "What did I miss?" he asked. Receiving no answer from them, he started off on the path after Andromeda. "Rommie?"

*          *          *

Evening came swiftly, and Andromeda soon found herself standing in front of the mirror looking at the dress her reflection was wearing. 

_Well_, she thought. _Not quite a dress_. Turning her head she looked balefully at Arwen, who simply smiled.

"You look lovely Andromeda, the shade of your skin and your exotic feature set you quite apart from any who live in this region, and the colors of the cloth suit you." She cocked her head inquiringly. "Why do you dislike dresses so?" 

Andromeda opened her mouth, then stopped, and closed it. She shook her head, muttering, "Several thousand years of cultural baggage behind that one." Then looking at Arwen said, "The bottom line is; I'm a High Guard AI. I don't do dresses."

 Frowning a little Arwen said, "I still do not understand this "AI" you refer to yourself as. Is it the name of your people?"

"Something like that," Andromeda smiled a little wryly. "It's not an easy thing to explain. Maybe I'll try someday, but not right now." 

She looked back at the mirror; in it was her reflection, dressed in browns, reds, and gold with just a hint of black here and there, while next to her stood Arwen, her raiment a soft gray with no ornamentation but a girdle of leaves wrought out of silver. Upon her head was a cap of silver lace in which were netted small glittering white gems. 

"I believe we are ready to go down," Arwen stated looking over Andromeda a final time.

"Wasn't Aragorn supposed to come get us?" Andromeda queried, confused. 

"Alas, duty has called him away for a time." Arwen gently took Andromeda by the arm and moved toward the door. "My brothers have returned unlooked-for from the Wild and he wished to hear their tidings at once. He will join the feast after that task is done."

"Oh," Andromeda said as she allowed herself to be lead out the door. 

Arwen guided them surely through the hallways of the house, quickly bringing them to a section of it that, according to the internal schematic Andromeda had produced, was near to the Hall of Fire. Here Arwen released Andromeda's arm. 

"Through that door," she said, pointing to the doorway at the end of the hallway. "Across the chamber and through the portals there, will put you in the feasting hall. I must go and attend to two final details. I will see you momentarily." Smiling at Andromeda she turned and glided away through a door to the left.

Andromeda looked after her a moment then turned back toward the door. "Ok," she said to herself. "It's just another party, just like all the other diplomatic functions you've been to." She started toward the door.

As she approached it, she became aware of Pippin's voice in the room beyond.

"…just like Gandalf said. She doesn't act like most of the other big-folk either, Gandalf said that's because she's not one of the big-folk, well not any of the kinds we know, and that if I wanted to know more I should stop pestering him and ask her."

"She doesn't look quite like the big-folk in Bree." Sam's voice came through her audio sensors. "Her skin is a different color and her face is different. But, stars! Mr. Frodo. She is beautiful."

Hearing that, Andromeda's eyebrows went up a little and a small smile appeared on her face. Before anything else was said she stepped through the door into the room, and found herself face to face with Frodo Baggins.


	5. chapter 5

Chapter 5 

By Verbosity

The four Hobbits made their way from the porch toward the feast hall, Sam leading the way, while Merry and Pippin walked beside Frodo and chattered away about Rivendell, the elves, and all they had seen since arriving. Frodo listened with half an ear as he gazed around at the house, not yet having had the time to see much of it, and looked for any elves that happened to cross paths with them. He still harbored within a desire to see more of this wondrous and mysterious people. Thought that desire now wrestled with growing longing to return home and see the fields and woods of the Shire once again. 

Turning his attention back toward the conversation he realized the topic had shifted again, and that his friend were speaking of the mysterious woman who, he was told, had helped Arwen and himself. 

Merry was saying, "…and then Pippin told her she sounded like Gandalf." 

"I suppose she does a little at that." Sam mused from up ahead of them. "But only her accent." he hastened to add. "Her voice doesn't sound like his of course."

"I would dearly like the chance to meet her." Frodo said. "Gandalf told me how she stopped the Ring-wraiths and defended Arwen and myself."

"You already have met her, dear cousin." Merry said grinning. "You however were not in a condition to greet her at either time." 

"Either time?" Frodo questioned, looking curious.

"She came to check on you with Merry and me one day." Pippin answered. "I think she wanted to help with your wound, but she said something about not being able to get a clear reading on what was causing the problem, and that without that she though she might do more harm than good."

            They passed through a doorway, moving from a hallway to what seemed to be an antechamber to a large hall. The muted buzz of voices could be heard from beyond the double doors leading to it.

            Stopping, Frodo looked at Pippin for a moment, and shook his head a little bemused. "Is she a healer then, as well a warrior?" 

            The other three Hobbits glanced at one another, and then Sam spoke up, looking thoughtful, "Well, I guess she is both those things, but…well, she's a little like the elves, Mr. Frodo. I mean, most of the time you can't really call them just one thing or another, they are all a whole lot of things all together, if you take my meaning."

            Frodo nodded, "I believe I do Sam."

            "Gandalf has become quite fond of her." Sam said. "It's easy to understand why, if you talk to her for a while." His expression was earnest. "I really do like her Mr. Frodo, she was very kind when she came to visit you." He looked pensive for a moment. "Though, I can't put together what I've seen of her with what she did to those awful Black Riders. She's a bit mysterious."

"I asked Gandalf about her, the day after we first arrived," Pippin chimed in. "He's been spending a lot of time with her, so have Strider and Lady Arwen, but Gandalf has spent the most. When I talked to him that morning he told me about this lady, and what had happened at the ford. I almost couldn't believe him. Later that afternoon, after I saw her for the first time, I went back to talk to him. She was just like Gandalf said. She doesn't act like most of the other big-folk either, Gandalf said that's because she's not one of the big-folk, well not any of the kinds we know, and that if I wanted to know more I should stop pestering him and ask her."

"She doesn't look quite like the big-folk in Bree." Sam said. "Her skin is a different color and her face is different. But, stars! Mr. Frodo. She is beautiful."

            Frodo smiled at the awed note in Sam's voice. His friends seemed quite taken with this stranger. _It_…His thought cut off as someone stepped through the door they had entered by. 

It was a woman, one of the big-folk, but not like any of them that he had ever seen. Her hair, a dark brown shade, was cut off just above her shoulders and the candlelight from the wall sconces reflected of her faintly bronze skin. Her features were different from anyone he had met before, and lent her a rather exotic air. 

Her two brown eyes examined Frodo for a moment then came to rest on Sam. Her slight smile grew wider. "Why thank you Sam.," she said to the now furiously blushing Hobbit. "I've rarely had such an honest compliment." Her voice was pleasant alto.

_Pippin was right_, Frodo thought. _She does accent her words just like Gandalf_. 

Her smile became a little impish as she turned her head to look at Merry and Pippin, "I hope the rest of you have been saying nice things as well."

"Absolutely."

"Certainly."

Merry and Pippin's responses were jaunty as they returned her grin. 

Shaking her head, still smiling, she turned back to Frodo. Her eyes rested on him, and the smile still played about the corners of her mouth as she said, "I'm glad to see that you're feeling better."

"Oh!" Sam blurted out. "I'm sorry Mr. Frodo. You haven't been properly introduced yet. This is Lady Andromeda. Lady Andromeda, this is Frodo Baggins."

Merry, grinning, leaned toward Sam and said in whisper clearly meant to carry, "I think he had that figured out Sam." 

"I know. It's just a question of courtesy, they should be properly introduced and all." 

Frodo, smiling fondly at Sam, turned back to Andromeda his expression growing serious again and said, "I want to thank you for…" he trailed off as she put up a hand to stop him.

"You don't need to thank me, I've had people thanking me up the wazoo. I just did what I thought was right." She smiled a little ruefully. "I'm glad I could help."

            _Wazoo?_ Frodo thought. His face showed a bit of confusion as he said, "Very well, but you still have my thanks."

            Pippin, looking at his face said, "Don't worry Frodo," his grin grew wider. "No one else understands some of the words she uses either."

            Andromeda inclined her head toward the door into the feast hall. "Shall we go in?" she said. 

            At that moment Frodo's stomach gave a low growl. As Frodo blushed, Andromeda gave a startled laugh, and the Hobbits found themselves smiling, for it was a clear happy sound.  

"I'll take that as a yes," she said. Stepping forward and taking Frodo's arm, she gently led him toward the doors. "Just between us, I don't really know what that word means either. I just got it from a friend of mine with a very colorful vocabulary."

*          *          *

            Andromeda gazed around the hall, taking in the well underway feast. The hall was filled with folk: mostly Elves, but also Dwarves, and of course Hobbits. The long table she sat at was situated on the dais. At the end of the table sat Elrond, to one side of him was Glorfindel, and to the other side sat Gandalf. At the middle of the table, against the wall and under a canopy, Arwen was seated. 

When Andromeda had entered the room she had been uncertain as to where she was supposed to sit, but one of the Elves had come and guided both her and the Hobbits to their seats, and she had found herself in the seat next to that of Arwen. Across and slightly down the table she could see Frodo deep in conversation with a richly dressed, white bearded dwarf. At a side table close to the dais she could see Sam, Merry and Pippin all sitting together and, from the look of it, steadily consuming all of the food on the table.

"Amazing, is it not?" the elf to her right, the opposite side from Arwen, said. "The little ones can consume amounts of food seemingly without regard to their size. If memory serves, they commonly partake of six meals a day." He was one of the elder Elves to whom Aragorn had taken her to hear the old tales.

She looked at him a moment then looked back at the Hobbits and muttered, "Wow, that's more than Harper will eat on a binge." 

She conversed with the elf for some time before she picked up her name being mentioned in conversation between Frodo and the dwarf. A Human, or even an Elf would not have picked it up through the noise and distance, and Andromeda had been carefully trying not to eavesdrop on conversations all over the room. After all it paid to be courteous to your hosts. Her name, however, drew her attention to Frodo's conversation. Andromeda's audio receptors were sensitive enough to pick up every sound in the room, and her processors were quite capable of sorting it all, so when her name was said, hearing what was said after was almost involuntary.  

"Then it is true. This lady Andromeda slew one of the Black Riders," the dwarf stated. He shook his head. "Hardly can I credit such a thing to woman of the Kind of Man, and yet…it is."

 "From what I understand she is not of the race of Man at all," Frodo said. "But something else entirely."

"Indeed." The dwarf stroked his beard absently with a hand as he glanced over at Andromeda, who was still conversing with the Elf next to her, and unbeknownst to him listening at the same time.  

_Multitasking is a wonderful thing_, Andromeda thought.

The dwarf looked back to Frodo and asked, "Is it known from where she has come?" 

"I don't know, perhaps Gandalf does, he has spent the most time with her," Frodo answered. "We could ask her." 

The dwarf nodded, "Perhaps at a latter time."

Andromeda stopped listening soon after this, as their talk turned to other matters.        After some time the feast came to an end. Elrond and Arwen rose from the table and went down the hall. People began to follow them and Andromeda sat for a moment wondering where to go. Motion at her side drew her attention, and looking, she found Gandalf standing at her side looking down at her. His grey hair gleamed faintly in the candlelight and as he smiled at her there was a twinkle in his eye. 

"We go now to the Hall of Fire to listen to songs and tales. You will hear many of them; for the Elves have been long upon Middle-Earth." He offered his arm to her as she rose. "Let us make haste and catch up with Frodo."

*          *          *

Sitting near Gandalf on a stool with her back against one of the pillars Andromeda looked over the gathering. _From an avatar on a Commonwealth starship to an avatar sitting in a hall with Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, and a Wizard_, Andromeda thought. It seemed surreal. She glanced at Gandalf again. _A wizard. I can't explain him_. She chuckled as a though occurred to her. _Of course I can't explain Trance either_.  

Hearing her laugh, he turned toward her. The firelight threw dancing shadows over his face as he raised an inquiring eyebrow. 

Smiling at him she shook her head and said, "Just thinking about how strange this all seems." 

His eyes were understanding as he replied, "Thrust so suddenly from one place to another, it is no wonder you feel so."

"No," she said. "It's more than that." She looked around and her voice trailed off, once again struck by a sense of the foreignness of this place, and how alone it made her. 

Gandalf gazed at her silently for a few moments and his voice was kind when he spoke, "Was it so very different, where you were?"

She turned her head back to meet the old wizard's eyes, and was struck by the quiet affection in them. Staring at him, she suddenly realized how much she had come to care for him in the short time she had known him. Maybe it was the fact of her situation: stranded in this world, without anything familiar to her. Perhaps it was his kindness, gentle sense of humor, his wisdom, or the way he always seemed to make the day lighter. Whatever the reasons, she did care, deeply.

Turning her thoughts back to his question, she sighed. "You have no idea."

Rising an eyebrow he replied, "Perhaps, but my own origins were very different from this as well." Reaching out her put a hand on her forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Give it time. Either a way will present itself for you to return, or you will come to be a part of this place." His air was encouraging. "In the meantime live, do your best at that, the rest is not for you to decide. In the end, it will all come right."

She stared silently at him for some moments, hearing the certainty in his voice, and was about to speak when she heard several people moving toward them. Gandalf's gaze shifted at the same moment to look at those approaching.

Turning, she saw two of the dwarves she had seen at the feast approaching. The old white bearded dwarf from the feast made his way through the room toward Gandalf and herself. A younger red bearded dwarf, his beard untouched by any gray, strode beside him as they made their way purposefully forward.

The two dwarves stopped directly before Gandalf and bowed to him, their beards nearly sweeping the floor. 

"Greetings Gandalf," said the elder dwarf as he returned to the vertical position. 

Gandalf inclined his head in greeting saying, "Well met Gloin. I had wondered when you seek me out."

"My apologies for nor finding you sooner, I have been sent from my kinsman Dain for urgent business with Lord Elrond. Else I would have come to you before now."

Gandalf nodded and said, "Yes I know. I think you will have your questions answered to your satisfaction tomorrow, or at least a start thereon."

Gloin seemed surprised. "Then you know what has transpired?"

"Indeed, that and much more." Gandalf's face was grave. Then he shook himself as if throwing off a sudden darkness. "But enough! This is neither the time nor place to speak of such matters, and I am forgetting my manners." He brought one hand up to indicate Andromeda. "This is the Lady Andromeda. Lady, this is Gloin and his son Gimli of the Lonely Mountain."      

Both dwarves bowed low to her. "Gloin and Gimli at your service Lady." 

Andromeda gave a polite response as the dwarves straightened up, their eyes studied her, lively with curiosity.

"We have heard a great many people speak about you since we arrived lady, but few seem to know much of you," said Gloin, giving his curiosity voice.

"There are many things I could say, but would not know how to explain properly to you Gloin." She gave a little shrug as she considered her words. From what she had seen, the dwarves seemed to value forthrightness. "And to be blunt, I'm not sure how much most would understand. My home was very different."

"You hail from a far land then?" The young dwarf Gimli spoke up.

Andromeda gave a short bark of laughter. "You could say that. Though I don't really know if it's far or near. Not knowing where, here, is."

The dwarf's puzzled glance traveled from her to Gandalf.

"She was brought here against her will by an unknown force." Gandalf said, answering their unspoken questions. "And," he continued, his gaze turning sympathetically to Andromeda. "None here know of whence she came or have the knowledge and power to return her to her home." 

The old dwarf's gaze was filled with sympathy as he looked again at Andromeda. "I too know what it is to be unable to return home. If there is aught I may do to help, do not hesitate to call upon me, for a friend of Gandalf's is ever welcome."

There was a sudden pause in the music that had been going on in other parts of the room, and as all turned to look, an elf rose to his feet and stood before to assemblage.

Lindar, Andromeda believed, was his name. 

            "Honored guests, many songs have been sung tonight, and many more yet to follow. I would now tell a tale in honor of some of those guests who have traveled from afar. I will tell the tale of Aulë and the creation of the Dwarves," and he began to speak. 

            Both of the dwarfs sat on nearby stools, and the younger leaned toward her and said, "Now you will hear a tale worth the telling, perhaps not as well as a dwarf would tell, but the elves remember well enough." 

Listening as the tale unfolded, Andromeda heard of the creation of the dwarven fathers. Of how Aulë grew impatient in waiting for the awakening of the Firstborn and sought to create a people as he had perceived them to be. How Illuvatar would not suffer any to displace his firstborn children and Aulë was moved to destroy what he had created, and of how Illuvatar took pity upon his grief and imbued his work with life and spirit. And Aulë took them away to the deep places of the world to be awakened when the time was right.

Andromeda sat quietly in thought after the tale had finished. She found her eyes drifting to the nearby dwarves. _They are organics, but in a sense they're the closest things to me that this world seems to have. They weren't created artificially, but if the tale has any element of truth their ancestors were…  _

"Lady Andromeda, you seem very quiet suddenly." Gandalf's voice gently intruded on her thoughts. "Has something disturbed you?" 

She turned her head to look at him and stared back searchingly into his concerned blue eyes. _Can I trust them with the truth? They're technology level is primitive so they wouldn't understand most explanations I could give…if that story is any indication they won't react too badly…and the character of those I have met so far seems to indicate there would not be too much of a problem…still, I am alien to anything they know… I'll just have to be careful in explaining: a bit at a time, and no more until I know they can handle the next part. _

"No, nothing has disturbed me," she shrugged, " it's just that the story has a theme familiar to me." 

"Oh," Gandalf looked searchingly at her. "Something from your homeland?"

A number of persons nearby in the room became more attentive to the conversation between the lady and the old wizard, eager to learn more of this mysterious guest.

"You might say that. The story bears some similarities to my own origins." _Here's to hoping_, she thought. She noticed she now had the attention of both of the dwarves.

Gloin stroked his beard as he looked at her. "The people that you were born to have a similar story of their beginning Lady?" He asked.

She smiled at him. "No, I mean my origins, I wasn't born; I was created."


	6. chapter 6

Chapter 6

By Verbosity

            The soft murmur of voices continued to be heard from other parts of the room, and across the hall she could hear an elvish voice lifted in a soft, haunting melody. In Andromeda's immediate vicinity, however, there was a breathless silence. Looking at the faces around her she saw a variety of expressions. Several of the elves that had overheard her statement displayed startlement or shock, while the dwarves were looking at her with surprise, excitement, and wonder. Gandalf was nodding slowly, his face thoughtful, as if another piece of a complex puzzle had been suddenly dropped into place.

            Seeing his expression Andromeda said, "You don't seem terribly surprised."

            "Truly I am not." Gandalf replied, his eyes meeting hers. "It explains several…oddities I had noticed."

            Before she could inquire what he meant, Golin found his voice again. "You were created by the Valar Lady?" 

            "No, not by the Valar. I'd never heard of them before I came here. I was created by…" Andromeda blew out a breath in exasperation as she tried to find the proper explanation. "That is a question with a very complicated answer." She raised a hand to indicate herself. "This body was created by one person, using designs of someone else, but I existed in another…well, several, other forms before that."  

            Confusion was evident on the dwarf's face.

            "To put it in simple terms, this body was created by one person, but my mind…" she paused for a moment then continued. "…my spirit, was made quite a bit before that." She gave them a little smile. "Trying to describe my other forms is not something I think I'm going to try to do quite yet."

            "Ahh." Gimli spoke up. "This is why you are strong and hardy enough to fight the Ring-wraiths; you were made to be tough, like a dwarf!" 

            Andromeda grinned at the tone in his voice. The appreciation, even admiration in it encouraged her to take he explanations a little farther. "You could put it like that, though I'm not made of the same stuff as you." She raised her arm. "My flesh isn't like yours, what it consists of is more like the things you pull out of your mines than it is like your flesh and blood."

            "Metal and stone Lady?" The nearby elf that asked had a puzzled expression on his face. 

            _How do I explain plastics, polymers, and nano-structured materials?_ She thought. "Think of it as metal and stone that have been made to be like flesh, and we're getting…sort of…close." 

            She could see from the expressions on most of their faces that they did not understand, but then she had not really expected them to. Gandalf however simply looked thoughtful, giving her the suspicion that he understood more than anyone else. She remembered his earlier comment about having origins "very different from this" and resolved to ask him exactly what he meant later.

"So why did they make you as you are?" Aragorn's quiet voice came from the shadows of the pillar to her left. Andromeda turned her head toward him, unsurprised by his presence as she had heard his approach minutes before, and listened as he continued. "I do not wish to offend you Lady. The creation of a person would not be an easy task for any being, and yet they wrought an extraordinary thing in you, and have made you exceedingly fast and strong." His eyes met hers, questions in them. "To what purpose?" 

            In the space of an instant her neural net, brought up various reasons for her construction and purpose: the Commonwealth protocols stating the necessity of AIs on High Guard ships, the need of the Andromeda's crew for the extra pair of hands a ships avatar would provide, those reasons, and more besides. In that moment, she recalled her own words to Dylan after she had been forced to destroy the Balance of Justice: _We're attack dogs, we're killers…_But the answer she finally decided on was that other, better, part of herself, the part that made her proud. 

            "My job is…was…to protect and serve the Commonwealth. It's what I am, why I was created. I did many different things in the course of service, but that was my main function. I was an officer of the High Guard." 

            "An officer of the Guard," Aragorn murmured, his voice and mien thoughtful. "A warrior protecting this…Commonwealth." He seemed to  be thinking out loud as he said, "And so, coming to this place from your home, the first action you took was to protect those who needed it."

            Andromeda gave a little self-deprecating shrug. "The urge to protect is sort of built in."

            He nodded and she looked around at the people near. The dwarves seemed eager, and almost bursting with questions. Gandalf simply sat quietly, a warm and reassuring presence at her right, taking everything in and, she had little doubt, coming to all the right conclusions. Of the elves, those near enough to be listening to the conversation wore varying expressions. Some of them seemed almost disturbed, others thoughtful, and a few of the dark haired, gray eyed ones seemed more fascinated than anything else. She spared a moment wondering how the Hobbits would react when they heard. She hoped they would take it well, Andromeda found she rather liked their cheerful company.     

*          *          *

            The charnel reek that hung in the air of the lower levels of Barad-Dur bothered the orc not at all; he found the smell pleasant even, as it filled his lungs. His breathing was quick as he hurried down the dark smoky corridor, lit only by the red glare of torches, and it became even faster, fueled by fear, at the booming, vibrating, howl echoing up the stairwell he passed. Giving a shudder of fear, he considered the _things _being bred down in the lower levels of the tower. Many of the orcs that made the trip down there did not come back up. 

            His task however did not take him downward, merely to the one who was in control of the breeding pits, if one could use the word merely in relation to such a being. The orc knew very little about that personage: only that he was a man, and that this man terrified him more than any in the service of Sauron save the Nazgul.

            In truth the man was a Black Numenorean, sworn to the service of Sauron, and master of his craft. A breeder of nightmares and things out of the forgotten ages of the world, in his menagerie there were horrors not seen since the darkness of the pits of Utumno, whence Morgoth bred the first of the Werebeasts, Vampires and Dragons.

            It was to this One that the lone orc hurried, bearing a message, and a description. Entering the room, which the man occupied, an unreasoning terror nearly overwhelmed conscious though, and the orc almost bolted from the room at the sight of the abomination caged in the center of the room. Between the door and the cage stood the man, his back turned to the door. 

Hearing the orc's entry the man turned slowly, his eyes coming to rest upon the cowering creature. He was tall, dark of hair and eyes, with noble features. He would have been considered handsome, but for his eyes. It was not that they were malformed, damaged, or ugly; it was that they were utterly empty. Looking into them one saw a vacuum, devoid of any spark of humanity, conscience, or spirit. The darkness had consumed them all, long ago.  

It was several minutes before the orc left the room, and as soon as it passed the threshold it broke into a run. As it returned to the upper levels of the tower it wondered, briefly, why the Dark Lord was so interested in a single woman that he had given her description, and instructions, to the man he had just left behind. The orc shuddered as it remembered the sudden…something…that had sparked in the twin voids of the man's eyes as it had finished delivering the message. 

Even a thing so vile as the orc could not help but feel a trace of pity, however brief, for whoever the woman was.      

*          *          *

            Andromeda had talked and answered questions for nearly two hours. She was very careful in how she explained things, careful to be general in many of her explanations, getting specific only in the details she thought they would understand. Until, finally, Gandalf came to her rescue.

            "Enough, enough." Gandalf said holding up his hands. "You will quite wear Lady Andromeda out with all your questions. There will be plenty of time to converse with her another day. It is getting late, and some of us have much to accomplish tomorrow." 

            Gloin inclined his head to the wizard, and turned to Andromeda, "My apologies if we are being too inquisitive Lady. Your beginnings are in some way similar to that of the seven dwarven fathers, and to us that makes you quite a wondrous being, even apart from your unique nature."

            Andromeda shook her head, "It's alright Gloin. I've enjoyed speaking with you. Some of the places I have been to have had a good deal less…enthusiasm for what I am."

            Gandalf was rising to his feet. Looking down at Andromeda he said, "Please walk with me. There are some matters of which I would speak with you."

            Taking their leave of the company gathered around they started toward the doors.    

            As they moved away from the hearth Gandalf gave a low chuckle, "The dwarves are quite taken with you my dear." There was a twinkle of the laughter still in his eyes as he spoke. "I don't believe I have ever seen the dwarvish nature warm to anyone quite so quickly. They are usually slow to give their friendship and trust, though once you have it, it is steadfast as the mountains."  

As they left the Hall of Fire she caught a glimpse of Aragorn standing behind the chair upon which Arwen sat, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder as they listened to the elven bard. Gandalf, who walked beside her, followed her gaze. A soft sigh escaped his lips. Curious as to what it meant she looked inquiringly at him as they passed into the hallway.

There was both sadness and joy in his eyes as he replied to her glance. "In the ages of the world there have been two joinings between the Eldar and the race of Man: Tuor and Idril Celebrindal, and Beren and Luthien. In those joinings there was both great love and terrible grief, and my heart tells me that it will be the same for Aragorn and Arwen."

"Tragic love." What had amounted to a pleasant mood abruptly evaporated, and Andromeda gave a laugh that held absolutely no humor. "That is a subject I know more about than I ever wanted to." 

Gandalf's eyebrows lowered and his brow furrowed with concern, as he perceived the painful, almost bitter tone in her voice. Taking her arm he steered them thru a door and onto one of the many balconies of the house. 

The night was cool, and they stood in silence. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees, and the ever-present sound of falling water filled the empty space.

Gandalf's gaze searched her face, and his silence gently encouraged further comment. 

Unable to meet his eyes she turned to face the night and stepped up to the balcony's railing. Haltingly she began, "There was another of my…people… His name was Gabriel." She looked down at her hands, resting on the railing. "I told you that I have other aspects of my self, other selves. His other self turned out to be insane and to protect everyone I had to…" Her voice caught, seemingly unable to continue the thought, and when she continued there was terribble pain in her voice. "I loved him. I loved him…and I killed him." 

She reflected that one of the curses of being an artificial intelligence was that she remembered everything, perfectly. So that when she remembered, the memories and emotions came rushing back, undimmed by time. Unlike with humans, time did not heal wounds; it only gave her more experience dealing with them. 

A gentle hand rested lightly on her shoulder as Gandalf moved to stand next to her. His voice was gravelly, soft, and aching with sympathy. "I am so very sorry for this pain you bear."

Her eyes closed at the emotion in his voice and her head turned a little toward him. "Sometimes, I almost wish that I had never met him, rather than…" Her voice fell off into silence.

"That what?" His voice was still soft. "Than have lost him? Would you rather you had never loved?" There was such intensity in his voice, as he continued, "No. Never wish that Andromeda. I cannot think of a more terrible fate." A gentle pressure on her shoulder turned her toward him. "To love is to bring something infinitely precious into the world. And though you were forced to take an action that could be wished upon no one, trust that there was a reason, and that all will be for the best. This was the promise given by Iluvatar: that all things will, in the end, work toward the betterment of the world." She opened her eyes to look into his blue gaze, and found the kindness in his eyes comforting. "And if that is not comfort, then think on this: death is an end to nothing, and though some may last the length of the world, no separation is forever." 

Andromeda found herself unable to answer, but the logical, and somewhat cynical part of her personality thought, _we don't know if AIs even have souls_.  

Gandalf seemed to sense that she would not accept his answers now, so he simply gave her an understanding smile and, gently squeezing her shoulder, let go.

 "But, it was to speak of other matters that I have brought you here," he said. Speaking now in a more normal voice. 

            Pushing aside all of the memories and emotions brought to the fore, Andromeda turned more squarely to face him.

            "We have conversed for long hours over the course of the last few days," he said, his face becoming grave. "Yet there is a subject I have avoided, as I wished to understand more of what, and more importantly, who you are. Some pieces of these events I have no doubt you have already begun to guess, and I know that you have sensed other things. Yet I do not know what you understand of it." He looked searchingly at her before he continued, "Do you know what Frodo bears?"

            Her thought immediately jumped back to her speculations on the object carried round Frodo's neck, and her sense that it was central to the events she was vaguely aware of transpiring around her.

            "When I was at the ford, checking him for injuries, I sensed something around his neck. It didn't read like anything I've ever encountered." She cocked her head a little to the side as she looked at him.

            The intensity of his gaze grew, as he asked, "Did you feel anything else from it? Did it draw you, or inspire a desire to take it, to posses it? And have you felt any of these things since?"

            A little disturbed by the intense searching of his gaze she frowned, as she said, "No, nothing like that. I've felt curious about what it is, but that's it."

            He gazed at her a moment more and slowly nodded. He seemed…relieved.

            "Why…" she began to ask, when suddenly a number of pieces clicked together. Aragorn had told her of Sauron, the Nazgul, the story of Isildur, and of the many troubles plaguing Middle-Earth. It suddenly made sense why the Ring-wraiths would be chasing a Hobbit from the Shire. "The Ring."

            "Yes. The Ring. Forged by the Dark Lord Sauron, and lost for an age. It has now fallen into our hands. A council has been called to determine the import of this and how to dispose of it. I would have you at this council."

            Surprised, Andromeda asked, "Why? I'm a stranger here. I have no knowledge of things like this ring, and little knowledge of Middle-Earth. What use would I be?"

            "More use perhaps than you think," he said with a trace of a smile. "Of all the beings in Middle-Earth, save perhaps Bombadil, I think the Ring has the least hold over you. Perhaps because of your origins, or perhaps it is simply your nature." He sighed, as if there was a great weight upon him. "If the council transpires as I deem it will, then there are those who will be sent to destroy the ring. Your assistance in such a journey would be an unlooked for hope."

Andromeda's face reflected uncertainty, and looking at her, Gandalf said, "You need not decide now. Wait till you hear all at the council tomorrow."   

*          *          *

As the darkness of night gave way to the gray twilight of early morning Andromeda prowled silently through the hallways of the House, filled with an odd restlessness. Gandalf's intimations and request for her help weighed heavily upon her.

            It wasn't in her nature to do nothing, and it seemed that nothing was all she could do in terms of going home. Gandalf was offering her a chance to do something, even if it wasn't getting her home. 

            She had come to care a great deal about Gandalf, and she considered Aragorn, Arwen and the Hobbits friends. Anything that would help them was definitely on her good list.

            Examining her ambivalence, she came to the conclusion that she had an utterly irrational urge to stay near the place of her entry into this world. Irrational, because, with modern technology it would be almost as easy to find her elsewhere as it would be near to the rift. 

            _And_, she thought. _Considering my lack of options for getting back. This may be home from now…until my power cell fails, and if it's home, I'm not going to let anything happen to it.  _"Besides," she muttered out loud. "I'm High Guard, and we protect those who need it."

            The course of her wandering had taken her outside the house. Now it took her out the main courtyard entrance, and onto the bridge that spanned the river, leading to the trail out of the valley. She stopped mid-span and stood there, gazing up at the remaining stars in the slowly lightening sky, feeling the vibration of the bridge as the water thundered underneath it. 

            Disregarding her appearance subroutines, as there was no one to see, she stood absolutely still. She did not breath, her eyes did not blink, and all the little motions so essential to the appearance of life were absent. It was not something she did often. Andromeda was made to be indistinguishable from human, but the last few days had been so full of emotions that she had never had to deal with until Harper created her this body, that she felt the need to return a little more to her basic self. 

            The soft mist from the waterfall and the early morning ground fog began to bead slowly on her still form. The beads of water sparkled in the growing light of morning and at that moment she appeared almost as a beautiful life-like statue, adorned with clear diamonds, and wrapped in mist. Like a figure belonging to another place, or some forgotten age. 

            It was this image that Boromir son of Denethor, weary and far from home, gazed upon in the gray hours of the morning as he first laid eyes upon Imladris.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 

By Verbosity

Boromir guided his weary mount carefully along the winding path through the high moor. His awareness of the nearing goal of his search, for which he had set out from Minas Tirith long months ago, gave him new energy. The pre-dawn light filtered down through the gray mist that blanketed the rolling moors, and the heather whispered softly against his horse's legs as he coaxed the faithful animal forward.  

This past day he had come across a landmark, recognizable from the directions given to him by a solitary ranger a fortnight before. Seeing the marker, he had realized how close he was to the end of his journey and in his eagerness, had pushed on through the moonlit night to reach his goal. 

Letting out a deep breath of weariness, he took his eyes from the path and glanced up at the slowly lightening sky, before the sudden stop of his horse brought his gaze back down. He saw the mists had thinned suddenly; the cause as obvious as the cliff abruptly terminating the land before his mounts hooves. Boromir looked out over the valley as the mist flowed in gray streamers down over the precipice, blanketing its floor in an impenetrable gray veil. The roar of falling water could be distantly heard from beneath the concealing grayness, and also somewhere beneath, were the ones he had come to find.

One hundred and ten days had passed since he had set out from Gondor. The dream that his brother, Faramir, and he himself, had experienced wore ever more heavily on his mind as the days had passed. In the dream the remote voice out of the west had spoken, "Seek for the sword that was broken: in Imladris it dwells…" Denethor, their father, had identified Imladris as a valley far to the north, a place where many of the greatest elven lore-masters yet remaining in Middle-Earth dwelt under the lordship of Elrond Half-Elven. 

Though he had only dreamed the portent once, and his brother many times, he had argued fiercely for the chance to embark upon this journey. In the face of the need of his people Boromir hated inaction, but even more he hated the helplessness of knowing his people would fail. Even before the route at Osgiliath he had known that Gondor's battle against the power of Mordor was doomed. The strength of people of Gondor had waned from what it once was, and what remained, though mighty, was not enough. Their allies were also diminished; the elves were leaving Middle-Earth, and of the realms of men only Rohan would rally to their call. 

When the dream had come he had at first dismissed it as a mere fantasy of his mind, but then his brother had come to him one night, disturbed by a dream he kept having. In the unraveling of this portent the brothers found a direction for hope. Though his brother had the dream often, and he only once, Boromir took upon himself the long journey northward, for perilous was the northern road, and of the brothers, Boromir was the better fighter. Yet this was not the sole reason he had set himself so firmly upon this path; he had felt a terrible helplessness and frustration in fighting the forces of Mordor, for it is hard to keep hope when you know, in your heart, that your struggles will come to naught. The dream had presented him with a course of action that would perhaps give some hope to the future he saw darkening the horizon, so he had seized upon it and poured his energy toward this new end, leaving Faramir to see to the defense of Gondor. He knew his brother to be far more patient than himself, and, he though, more suited to that task.   

And so Boromir had set out, taking the long lonely road northward, seeking the fabled valley. Now after nearly four moons, and many hard roads, he stood near to the end of his journey.  

Looking over the valley he had striven to find he felt anticipation and a sense of expectancy. The mist was thinning quickly now in the brightening morning and he craned his neck, looking for the path down into the dale the ranger had spoken of. Spying something a little farther along the ridge he turned his mount in that direction, and presently came to a trail winding downward.

The noise of falling water grew louder as he made his way along the narrow path, until it swelled into the sound of a great waterfall. The morning mist had mostly cleared and Boromir could see the autumn colors of the valley, muted in the gray morning, but he did not see the House of Elrond. Looking ahead, the curve of the path hid the waterfall from his sight, and also, he surmised, his destination. 

Coaxing his mount along the way, he rounded the bend, and there before him was the House of Elrond. He caught his breath at the sight. The graceful forms and intricate latticework were only hinted, and not clear in the gray light, but enough was visible to give a vision of sylvan beauty. The many-winged house was quiet in the pale morning, a few faint lights glimmered in various windows, and the early morning mist softened the lines of the building, giving it an almost ethereal quality. 

Boromir lowered his eyes from the house set upon the rise to the path leading up to it. A bridge spanned the cusp of the river and waterfall, and upon the bridge stood a woman. 

For a second time his breath failed him, and his horse, in the sudden lack of guidance from his rider, plodded steadily forward as Boromir, unmindful, stared in wonder.

She stood midway upon the span, her face turned upward to the sky, as if communing silently with the vaulted heavens above. Her hair was a dark brown, falling down above her shoulders. She was dressed as if for a feast, the clothing was rich with the same colors of autumn as the trees of the valley; reds, browns, and here and there a hint of black and gold. The morning mist had beaded upon the cloth, shining in the growing light like small diamonds, and highlighting the exotic coloring of her skin. Her skin was a shade he had never seen upon any being before. It was not the yellow color of the people of Rhun, nor the brown and black of the Harad, but a very light bronze. The horse's forward motion brought him close enough to see her clear brown eyes, which, he suddenly realized, were now looking straight back at him. 

He felt a flush of embarrassment as he became conscious of the fact that he had been staring at her for far too long to be polite, and had been so fascinated by her appearance that he had not noticed when she had lowered her gaze to him. 

Was this strange, marvelous being one of the elves of this place? His gaze went to her ears.

"No," her voice cut over the sound of the water. "I'm not an elf."

He sat straight in startlement, a tug on the reins brought the horse to a halt a few lengths short of her. "Are you a reader of minds instead, Lady?" The question came out sharper than he had intended, as he felt suddenly off balance. 

She did not seem to take any offence, just smiled a little and said, "No, it's just that where your eyes were going, it was the obvious question." 

He felt a fresh burst of shame at her equanimity. Being this brusque to a Lady…he had been taught better. Swinging out of his saddle, he dropped to the ground and faced the woman, giving her a courtly bow. "I greet you lady, I am Boromir son of Denethor, of Gondor, and I apologize for my rudeness. The road has been long and weary, and your appearance was quite surprising to me."

  Her eyebrows rose a little. "Rude?" she seemed a little amused by the thought and shook her head. "If you think that was rude, I need to introduce you to a Calderan."

After a bemused pause, he spoke, "Your pardon Lady, but what is a…Calderan?" 

"Never mind," she sighed. "I should have learned to stop doing that by now. I feel like Harper; no one understands half of what comes out of my mouth. Your apology is accepted." She turned toward the house and made a gesture toward it. "Come on, let's go get your horse and you a place to rest." She glanced back at him. "My name is Andromeda by the way."

*          *          *

            _Poor guy_, Andromeda thought, not without a touch of amusement. _He seemed more baffled by me than anyone else I've met here_. 

            She had been mildly surprised to the man coming down the path toward her earlier. In such a low-tech culture it was uncommon to see someone traveling at night, and if a person did so, usually the reasons were urgent. A person with urgent business coming to Rivendell, at this time of all times, was something of a coincidence, and the last two years of her life had taught her that the things one thought were coincidence were often related to the matter at hand. 

            She had been giving thought to Gandalf's plea, and though she did not know what was to happen at the council today she trusted his assessment matters. So while there was no formality to it, Andromeda had already accepted, for herself at least, that she would do anything she could to help.

            The noise of the waterfall had obscured the sound of the horse' hooves until just after it had rounded the turn in the path. She'd immediately scanned him when she realized he was there, and came up with all the readings of an ordinary human. After taking a moment to restart her appearance subroutines, she had brought her gaze down to look at him. He was tall, with light brown hair and blue-green eyes, and a full goatee that softened the angles of his chin. A round shield was slung at his back, while his sword hung from his hip. From the readings she had gotten from his metabolism, he was in excellent shape, of course so was everyone else she had met here, with the possible exception of a hobbit or two.

            He had thought his behavior was rude, a thought she still felt amusement at, he probably had the same type of upbringing Aragorn did. Sometimes the courtesy was pleasant, she had to admit, but at other times it was just annoying. The elves seemed not to discriminate between the sexes, but from her talks with various people, the same behavior did not prevail among humans. Andromeda had a feeling that the "curtsey" towards women was going to be a stumbling block in the future. 

            _Oh well_, she thought. _They'll just have to deal with it. _ 

            She had taken Boromir to the stables to get his mount settled in. On the way up to the house he had glanced at her a number of times, seemingly curious, but restraining it for the moment. There had been one other person in the stables when they arrived, a tall, dark haired, gray-eyed, elf who had turned out to be Elrohir, son of Elrond. 

After they had been introduced Boromir had voiced a question that had concerned him, "I saw no guard on my way into the valley. The world grows dark, and if I had ill intent I could have worked great harm." He had gestured to Andromeda. "The Lady Andromeda was alone, and would have been terribly vulnerable had I wished to cause her hurt." 

Elrohir had gravely replied, "You were sighted long before you reached the valley, Boromir of Gondor, and were watched carefully the whole while. You were not stopped because we had word of a lone traveler seeking Rivendell, from a ranger to the south, and if you were not greeted by the watchers, it is likely because Lady Andromeda was there to do it." His eyes, for a moment, had gone to Andromeda, who had stood with her arms folded over her chest and head cocked slightly to the side. "And if you had tried to harm her, you would have been quite…surprised by the result."

Boromir had glanced between the two, mystified.   

Elrohir had then looked back to him and shook his head. "We are not without defenses here, and the Enemy has not yet grown strong enough to penetrate them. I assume whatever matter you come upon is urgent, so please, let me take you to my father at once."

With a nod to Andromeda he had moved away, and with another courtly bow and a murmured "Lady" Boromir had followed. 

Leaving the stables she had made her way back to her room, and now as she reached them and entered, her thoughts turned back to the project she had started yesterday.

Andromeda glanced at the books and maps on the table in the corner of the room. _First though, to get out of this outfit,_ she thought, looking down at the clothes she had on. Moving into the adjoining bedroom she striped of the ornate clothes and replaced them into the elaborately carved dresser while removing a plainer, more utilitarian pair. Minutes later she seated herself at the desk and opened the language books of Sindarin and Quenya. 

*          *          *

            The ringing of a bell brought her attention out of the tomes before her. Closing them, she continued to process the lingual patterns within, and rising to her feet and made her way out of the room and along the corridor. Gandalf had informed her last night of the meeting place for the council and had told her that it would be announced by the ringing of a bell. 

            Passing into another hall she heard the murmur of voices ahead. Moving closer she began to discern words, _Sindarin_, she thought. With the knowledge she had absorbed from the books over the course of the morning she could decipher a good deal of the conversation. It was Aragorn and an elf, one Legolas, greeting one another.

            She stepped through the doorway into the room and found herself on a flat platform, open to the outside. Chairs were set in a circle round the circumference, while a pedestal graced the center.    

To her right stood Aragorn and the elf, Legolas, conversing in quiet voices as they waited for the others to arrive. As Andromeda entered, Aragorn, caching her eye, gestured for her to join them. 

            "Andromeda, fair morning to you." He gazed at her speculatively for a moment. "I assume, due to your presence, that the council was the matter about which Gandalf wished to speak with you last night?"

            "You'd be correct," she gave a little sigh. "I've had a rather thoughtful night."

            "I am grateful that you have come," he said simply. "This is not your world, and there are many, who, in your position, would not involve themselves."

            "I've only been here a short time, but I've made friends." She looked him straight in the eyes, "I won't walk out on them."

            His face had a somewhat grave cast to it, but there was a smile in his eyes as he inclined his head to her, in an affirmation of friendship. He then turned partially back to the tall elf with the long golden hair that stood next to him and was watching Andromeda with open interest.

            "This is Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood," Aragorn said, gesturing to him. 

            "Greetings Lady Andromeda." Legolas's hair whispered slightly over his shoulders as he bowed lightly.

            "I greet thee Legolas, may Elebreth smile upon this meeting," Andromeda hailed him, shocking both men by the ancient greeting delivered in perfect Sindarin.

             Aragorn's brief look of surprise was replaced by a growing smile and he shook his head, "Ever surprising," he said.

            "That's part of the fun of life, Aragorn." Andromeda grinned at the two of them.   

            Aragorn opened his mouth to reply but stopped as he caught sight of Gandalf entering the council area. The wizard, sighting the three, stepped round the chairs and joined their group. 

            "Aragorn," he greeted. "Legolas, Andromeda. The morning finds you well, I hope." 

            There were confirmations voiced all round. 

            "Quite well, Gandalf," Aragorn said. "Indeed, some of us appear to be having a most excellent morning." At the wizard's inquiring glance he continued, "Andromeda appears to have acquired yet another language-"

            Aragorn cut off as Andromeda said clearly in Quenya, "Two." Her eyes were cast upwards, with an innocent expression on her face. 

            "Indeed, my apologies Lady," Aragorn gave a little mock bow in her direction, turned back to the wizard, and said distinctly, "Two."

            Legolas looked on at the interplay between the android and the man, a growing smile on his face. He had heard something of her speed, nature, and strength, but none had mentioned her sense of humor. 

            Gandalf shook his head with a sigh, but there was a twinkle in his eye. After a moment he asked, "Between your thinking and studying did you manage to get any sleep at all last night?"  

            The three watched her suddenly pause, "Actually that's another difference between me and them," she said as she pointed to Aragorn. "I don't sleep." 

            The wizard blinked once, then seemed to take it in stride. 

            Aragorn eyebrows rose a little, but he didn't seem terribly perturbed. She supposed that after spending most of his life around elves, who rarely slept either, that this wouldn't bother him much. 

Legolas asked, "Do you then walk in memory, as do my people?"

"No, I just don't need rest," she gave a little shrug. The council area was starting to fill now, most of the elves had arrived, Elrond and Erestor stood now near the far end of the room. She could see the dwarves approaching the council area along one of the outside paths, and Bilbo and Frodo had just entered through the door. 

Andromeda smiled and nodded a greeting to Frodo across the room when she noticed another figure enter. The man, Boromir, she had meet earlier in the morning glanced around a little uncertainly at the unusual occupants of the room. His clothes were still the same worn, travel stained, ones he had worn on the arriving, so apparently he hadn't had time to rest or change yet.

Looking back to her companions she saw that Aragorn was looking at Boromir, an expression she couldn't identify in his eyes. 

"Borimir, son of the steward of Gondor." Gandalf's murmured comment came from her side.

"The stewards that have ruled since the line of kings was broken?" Andromeda asked, as she took note of the way Aragorn shifted beside her. 

  "Just so," the wizard said. "But that is a story for a different time. Now, we should take seats, for the council is about to begin."

 As the three men moved away to their seats Andromeda thought for a moment, and glancing once again at the uncertain Boromir, walked towards him.

Crossing the empty middle of the room her passive sensors picked up something just outside the council space, a flicker of something concealed in the bushes. Shifting her active sensor systems on she took a closer look. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Gandalf's sudden twitch and his head turned toward her. He looked at her a moment and then his eyes moved in the direction of her sensor probe, a little smile appeared on his face. Andromeda, too, had a sudden urge to smile as she recognized the two small beings hiding in the shrubbery.

Boromir's attention had been drawn by her straight course across the room to him, and as she approached, he executed a small bow. When he spoke, he seemed almost relieved to have someone familiar to greet.

"Lady."

"You seem a little lost. I thought you might like to see a face you had at least seen before."   

"Your company is most welcome. I must confess to a slight sense of being overwhelmed." He smiled a little ruefully. "It has been long since elves were seen in Gondor, and while there are stories, they do not prepare one for the reality."

Andromeda nodded, "They do tend to have that effect I've noticed; one moment they're stately and grand, the other, playing like children.

A soft crystalline note chimed out, cutting through the general buzz of conversing voices. All eyes were drawn to the head of the council area where Elrond stood and he gestured for all to take seats. 

Boromir waited for Andromeda to sit, and she had the impression that if they had been sitting at a table he would have held the chair. She glanced at him as he sat, and then her attention was drawn forward again as Elrond began to speak. 

            The afternoon light spilled through the autumn leaves of the tree above, casting a golden light on the council and the group of people standing in its center. Frodo had volunteered to take the ring, and one by one others had stepped forward to support him on this journey. Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Boromir, and Samwise all stood forward, and moments later two other hobbits had burst out of the underbrush to stand by their friend's side. 

Merry and Pippin both stared determinedly up at Elrond as he looked back at them. Bursting out of the bushes into a secret council was apparently not the way to get on his good side.

Andromeda looked up from the two, and Gandalf caught her eye and raised an eyebrow. Smiling, she nodded and decided to take a little of the pressure off the hobbits. 

"You can count on my help as well, Frodo." 

            Heads turned toward her, and the words drew a spontaneous exclamation from Boromir.

            "The journey will be no place for a Lady! We cannot afford to be slowed and we cannot protect you, the way will be fraught with danger." He glanced around, expecting to see support for his words mirrored in the faces 'round. 

            There were varying expressions, but not the support he expected to see. The wizard had a small smile on his face, while Frodo seemed half-anxious half-hopeful. The dwarf, Gimli, had made a sound of acclimation in favor of Andromeda, while the elves had vying expressions of amusement at his words and appreciation for Andromeda. 

            "You cannot mean to let her come," Boromir said as he realized they fully intended to allow her to do just that.

            "Boromir," Aragorn's calming voice turned the man's attention toward him. "Do not pass judgment so quickly, you do not yet know her."

            "The journey will be far too difficult and dangerous for a woman."

            Aragorn glanced at Andromeda, seeing her crossed arms and raised eyebrow in response to Boromir's statement, he asked, "Would you be so quick to dismiss an elf-woman?"

            Boromir seemed baffled by the question. "I think the journey inappropriate for any woman, but one of the elven race would be far more suited to the rigors of such a task. Yet I fail to see how that applies here, she is not an elf."

            "She is not of the race of man either, Boromir," Aragorn replied.

            "Not…" Boromir's head swung from Aragorn back to Andromeda, who merely looked back at him and gave a little shrug.

            "Her appearance is deceiving, man of Gondor," Gimli said. "She has already proven she can be a mighty ally on such a journey."

            "Indeed," Elrond spoke. "Before her arrival in Rivendell she defended the Ring-bearer from the Nazgul, the same black riders that routed the defenders of Osgiliath, and slew one of their number."  

            Boromir was half disbelieving as he looked up and down her slight frame. She did not appear at all capable of such a thing and yet if such as Lord Elrond said that it had happened…

            Andromeda gave a little shake of her head as she watched the expressions cross Boromir's face. "Men pay far to much attention to physical attributes: tall, short, fat, thin, ugly, beautiful, male, female. " Andromeda sighed, "Sometimes it makes me wish I had chosen a different appearance."

There was a spontaneous chuckle from the wizard, and amusement played over Gandalf's features, as he said, "I know precisely what you mean." The hobbits and dwarves looked at each other, mystified, as Andromeda and the old wizard shared a commiserating look. 

Glancing around, Boromir noticed that the elves did not seem as baffled by this exchange as the others, while Aragorn just looked between the wizard and woman and shook his head in fond amusement. 

"Well," Elrond raised his hands in a gesture encompassing the people before him. "It appears we now have our…Fellowship of the Ring." 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 

By Verbosity

Hey people, I'm back. 

I feel the need to apologize to everyone for the hideously long waits between chapters. I've never been the fastest writer, and everything happening in life just seems to slow me down more. 

The latest part of the life saga is that I think I have mono. At least that's what it resembles, and its been kicking my ass for the last three weeks. "sigh" I should probably go to the doctor… after all, if I die before I finish the story it would  be a bad thing.

Anyway, you all don't want to hear about that. 

The story should move faster during the travels and then slow down a bit in Moria and Lothlorien but I don't think either of those will be as interaction dense as Rivendell. After all that is where the setup for the rest of the story occurs.

The company did not leave immediately on the quest, for it was deemed by Aragorn and Gandalf that it would be wise to gather word of the Black Riders and the happenings of the lands about before they set out upon their journey. And so scouts were sent out from Rivendell into the wilds, in all directions east and south, go gather information upon the routes the fellowship might choose.

The days passed, one flowing on into another, and Andromeda spent time with those who were to be her companions, coming to understand their moods and habits. These people were different from the High Guard crewmembers she had before the period spent behind the event horizon of the singularity. In many ways they were more like the crew she had inherited from the Eureka Maru. Much like Harper, Beka, Rev, Tyr, and Trance, each of her new companions was unique and very much an individual, yet somehow she sensed that they would, like her crew, find a way to work together and be stronger than even they knew. 

There were afternoons with the dwarves conversing on various subjects of craft, and Andromeda gained some understanding of their character. They took delight in the beauty of things crafted by their own hands and had a fierce love the things they considered theirs, be it gold, treasure, or family and good friends. Once they set their minds about something it took a great deal to change it. It was also, she had to admit, gratifying to be admired for simply what she was. 

            A fair time she spent in the company of the hobbits, with their relaxed conversations after meals smoking pipeweed. Their incorrigible good nature was something she marveled at; they were as determinedly cheerful as Trance. Merry and Pippin were full of questions and all the hobbits listened quite curiously to her answers. Sam seemed at first overawed and deferential. After some time the awe faded, but he never quite lost the deferential aspect, it being, as he put it, "Beggin your pardon, but only the proper attitude to have to a lady, even if she is a warrior and all." As to Frodo, she was a little concerned about him. He interacted normally with everyone, as far as she could tell, but there were moments when his gaze would turn inward and she would see him fingering the object under his shirt, on the chain around his neck. She supposed it was possible she was being a little over-sensitive with the warnings that Gandalf had given her about the Ring. She hoped she was.

            A great many hours were spent with Aragorn, Boromir, and Legolas learning of weapons and woodcraft. Legolas taught her to use a bow and she was forced to come up with a surprisingly complex set of ballistics equations to get the arrow to go where she wanted it. Once she had succeeded though, the elf was startled at how accurately she could place an arrow. 

            When the elf had commented at Aragorn's unsurprised demeanor the ranger had replied with a solemn sort of amusement, "I have made a vow to never be surprised by anything that she does. Likely it is a promise doomed to be broken, but I will try."

            Boromir's introduction to her fighting skills came at the instigation of Aragorn, who believed that the warrior needed a shock to jolt him over his preconceptions about Andromeda. The sparring session was brief, as Andromeda proceeded to disarm the three of them without using any weapon at all. Boromir had lain flat on his back, the breath knocked out of him, his hand stinging from when she had ripped the sword from his grasp, as she had reached out her hand to help him up. He had stared at her for moment before hesitantly taking it and she tugged him easily to his feet. 

            That had been the end of his protests against her participation within the Fellowship but he had been distant and, sometimes hesitant, sometimes brusque, in his interactions with her. It worried Andromeda as she had learned through hard experience that dissention within a group that needed to work smoothly as a unit was a very bad thing.

            Finally, she had spent many long quiet evenings, and afternoon walks through the winding paths of the valley, with Gandalf. 

            It was strange, Andromeda had never had a relationship quite like the one she now did with the old wizard. She had been adult from her first conscious moment. She didn't have parents, either a father or a mother. There were other AI's in the Argosy, who had been in service for centuries, to whom she had gone for advice and guidance. But never anyone similar to how she felt about Gandalf. With him it had become more personal than just a mentor. Her forced isolation from anything she knew combined with his ready support and understanding of her alien nature had formed a bond between them that was more like that of a parent and child than any she had ever known.

*          *          *

As Boromir's uncomfortable behavior around her continued, Andromeda finally broached the subject with Aragorn one brilliant fall morning and the ranger had tried to explain the man's behavior.

"He does not know how to react to you Andromeda," he said as they stood upon the balcony overlooking the river. "You are a woman, and that evokes a certain manner from him." He stopped her with an upraised hand when she made as if to speak. "As you have said, it is different with your people, but I speak of Gondor and the customs of that land. There, and indeed in most of Middle-Earth, women are to be protected. Even among the elves, a woman warrior is a rare thing. You look much as the race of Man, yet you are not. He has seen some measure of your speed and strength," he smiled slightly. "As you have disarmed all of us in practice, but even so, I do not believe that the knowledge that your nature is other than that of Man is entirely...real...to him yet. His mind knows one truth, but his heart responds to what he has been taught." 

He paused as Andromeda mulled it over and, leaning against the railing, he continued. "The knowledge that you are a fellow warrior demands a far different response than the one provoked by your appearance. It seems that he finds it difficult to reconcile the differing messages his mind and his teaching have given him. My advice to you: simply be as you are. For that is what he must come to accept."

Andromeda sighed a little, "So, keep on doing what I'm doing and let him work his issues out?"

Aragorn gave a slight smile at the turn of phrase and nodded, "Yes."

"Do you think it would help to spend time with him more regularly? As it is he tends to avoid me every chance he gets." 

"Mayhap. But beware of pushing him too hard. If it becomes necessary Gandalf or I will speak with him on the matter."

*          *          *

One lazy evening after the dinner meal Gandalf and Andromeda had retired to the Hall of Fire to talk. They had found Aragorn and Arwen already there and the four of them had conversed for several long hours. The midnight hour had passed and both Aragorn and Arwen had retired when the conversation between the wizard and Android turned to darker matters. The Black Riders, Andromeda had learned, would not have been destroyed in the flood, merely unhorsed and disembodied. They would have been greatly inconvenienced, but not killed. When Gandalf told her of this he spoke also of the nature of the Enemy: of Sauron, of the Nazgul, and of the others who served them.  

As she listened to him describe exactly what Sauron was a growing sense of unease built up inside her. _Not the best person to have hacked off_, she thought, _and from what Gandalf says, killing a Nazgul probably did just that_. 

She was also taken by surprise by the revelation that Gandalf's own nature was similar to that of Sauron.

Staring at him in surprise, she said, "You're a Maiar? I thought...Aragorn said you were something called an Istari."

"Istari, or wizards, as Men call us, are but Maiar who have been sent to Middle-Earth  for the purpose of opposing Sauron. We are of the same order of spirits as he, but of lesser degree, and there are constrains placed upon us. Our bodies are subject to all the same limitations as Man, save we do not grow sick and we do not grow older." 

Andromeda leaned back into the chair as she took another reading of him with her active sensors. Sensing this, he just cocked his head to the side and continued to regard her calmly. 

"Your basic physical structure is human, though I can't resolve genetic structure or cellular functioning without a medical scanner."

Gandalf quirked an eyebrow at the unfamiliar words.

Andromeda waved it aside, "The meanings don't matter, and they're probably not relevant anyway. The part I can't make sense out of is the energy reading I get from you. My sensors tell me it's there, but they can't tell me anything else about it."

Gandalf nodded, "The energy of your...sensors," he carefully pronounced the strange word. "Is of the material world. The energy of my being only intersects this world, it is not of it."

Andromeda considered that for a moment then shook her head, "I don't think I'm going to try to unravel the full implications of that at the moment. That's a conversation you should be having with Rev Bem."     

"Rev Bem...the companion of yours who was the...Magog?" Gandalf questioned after a moments thought.

"That would be the one. His knowledge was in the area of the structure of the universe, or theoretical astrophysics." 

Andromeda was silent for long moments, staring at the fire crackling in the hearth. "So that's what you meant when you implied you could probably understand my origins." She turned her gaze back to him, questioning, "You existed completely as energy...spirit...at one time?"

Gandalf nodded, and smiled a little, "At one time, and continue to even now. This body is just that: a body. Much in the sense, as you have told me, that you are inhabiting that form."

"Of course, my existence is dependant upon having something to exist in, whether it be a computer network or a neural net, take it away and I cease to be."

Gandalf looked at her sharply as she said this, with an expression that hinted of disagreement, and seemed about to speak. 

"What is it?" she asked after his silence had stretched into long moments.

He remained silent, looking at her for another moment, then simply gave her a gentle smile and shook his head, "An argument for later time." The wizard rose to his feet, "For now, dear lady, I must obtain at least a few hours of sleep before the morning, for this body is constrained by such things, even if yours is not."

She smiled up at him, "I'll see you later in the day then?"

"Certainly, and I believe that Elrond wished to discuss the route of our journey. Some of the scouts sent out have returned sooner than hoped." 

*          *          *

The summons to a meeting with Elrond came in the form of Aragorn knocking at her door in the late morning. 

"Andromeda?"

The android was already moving toward the door when the ranger called her name. Opening it a moment later she looked up at him with a smile, "Meeting time?"

"Yes. It begins in a candle mark. Are you ready?"

"Of course."

There were less people at the meeting than the council and it consisted mostly of several of the elder elves, Elrond, Gandalf, Aragorn, and two Men dressed similarly to how Aragorn when he arrived at Rivendell. 

Making the logical assumption Andromeda murmured a question to Aragorn as they moved to the table the others were gathered round. "Rangers?"

"Yes, the Dunedain."

They were welcomed into the group at the table and the discussion commenced upon the subject of the route the company was to take. Options were outlined upon the maps spread upon the table and as each route was suggested it was evaluated. 

Hours passed and for the most part Andromeda simply listened occasionally making an observation when it seemed she had an understanding or idea appropriate to the situation. Her extensive tactical knowledge was of limited use, as it was applicable to situations far different then the one now facing them. She felt she was able to make some small contribution nonetheless.

In the end the choices were narrowed to three: the pass of Caradhras, the Gap of Rohan, and Moria.

"I do not trust to the crossing of Rohan," said Aragorn. "Not since the news you have brought of Saruman, and Moria...that is a dark road indeed."

"Then you would urge the crossing of the mountains by the pass of Caradhras?" Elrond spoke quietly.

The ranger sighed, "I think no good of any road ahead of us, but perhaps the least ill of that one."

Gandalf nodded his eyes upon the map. "I think that Caradhras it must be, though a difficult road it may prove in the end." 

Elrond glancing around the table saw no dissention among those gathered, and drawing a deep breath said, "So be it. The time of the Fellowships departure must be soon before the pass is buried in the winter snows. In seven days the Fellowship will depart."

The company about the table rose and Aragorn moved to the two rangers and drew them into a corner for speech. Andromeda stepped over to where Gandalf and Elrond stood and listened.

"...the way under the mountains." Elrond was finishing a sentence.

There was a considering look in Gandalf's eyes, "Perhaps, but I see only a great darkness upon that road, and beyond, all is hidden from me. But enough, it is not the road we have chosen."

Seeing the weight of care and worry in the old wizard Andromeda wished briefly that the rest of her "self" was here. The solution to their problems would be so much simpler then.

Elrond apparently saw something in the expression upon her face for he asked, "Do you have a thought lady Andromeda?"

"Nothing useful. I was just wishing I had my full resources here. If I were home I could simply lob enough weaponry at him to blast him out of existence, and be done with the whole issue."

Elrond shook his head, "Some problems cannot be solved through the application of force. Sauron is of the Maiar: one of the spirits from before the creation of the world. You would be hard pressed to find a weapon that could truly kill him." 

Just then Erestor called to him from across the room, and giving a nod to Gandalf and Andromeda, he moved away to speak to the other elf.

Andromeda watched as Elrond walk away and though it was not meant for his ears, Gandalf caught the muttered words, "Oh I don't know. Saturation bombing with antimatter weapons solves lots of problems."

*          *          *

            Boromir wandered aimlessly down the lantern lit paths of the gardens, his thoughts continuing to return to the one subject they had been circling like the Crebain of Dunland: Andromeda. She confused him, her very nature was a contradiction, a quandary of a type he had never before been forced to deal with. 

            First he thought of her as a woman. She had greeted him upon his arrival in Rivendell and though she seemed strange of manner she was quite obviously a woman. Later he found she was also a warrior, and not of Man, or Elven, or Dwarfish nature but something completely different: something strange and quite alien, and yet in the form of something very familiar.

            She fought, oh how she fought! It had been many long years since he had been bested so swiftly in battle and with such ease. He had been hesitant to strike at her in spite of Aragorn's encouragement, and when he had, she had moved with blinding swiftness, tearing the sword from his grasp as if he had been but a child and hurling him to the ground even as she had turned upon Aragorn and Legolas. 

            Further time practicing had given him a uneasy respect of her speed and strength, both far in excess of any being he had ever encountered. He tried to treat her as a warrior, but every time he looked upon her he saw a woman, and the thought of the two as the same disturbed him. It had been easier to try and avoid interaction with her, and he had the impression that she had been assisting him in that to make him more comfortable. It shamed him that he had been unable to face the conflict within himself.

            Of late though, she had been crossing paths with him more often, and he forced himself to interact with her. Maddeningly, instead of helping, it reinforced both sides of his perception. There were moments when she would make an observation, or comment, no man ever would and others when the words that she spoke sounded like the ones he had heard spoken by the guardsmen and warriors of Gondor. 

            He had watched as she talked and worked with the others. She learned eagerly, seemingly without any pride to prevent her from saying, "I don't know." She showed great knowledge in many subjects, more seemingly, in some cases, than even such as Gandalf or Elrond, but she knew so little in others. She was a paradox and he found himself both baffled and strangely fascinated. 

            Sighing, he looked up at the night sky. The stars away from the house were crisp and clear, shining brightly in the black firmament. There was just enough light from the moon low on the horizon for him to discern his way along the shadowed path. A small clearing opened ahead and he stepped into it. The trees cast their shadows, burying one side of the clearing in darkness, and unable to see the ground in front of him he stumbled on an uneven stretch.

            "Careful," a quiet voice came from the deep shadows of the clearing side. "There's an uneven patch for about a stride in front of you."

            His head turned toward the speaker even as he identified the voice as belonging to the object of his confusion. "Lady Andromeda?"

            "Yes, Boromir?" Her voice emanated from the area of deepest shadow in the clearing.

            He felt his way carefully closer, his eyes slowly coming to see a large dark hulk about waist high. It was a boulder, sunk partway into the ground, and there upon it was a vaguely perceived form that he now realized was Andromeda, sitting upon its flat top.

            She was sitting out here in the dark, alone, and Boromir surprised himself by finding he was concerned. As he came to stand next to the boulder he asked, "Are you well?"

            He couldn't quite make out her face, but from her orientation he though it was turned toward him.  

            "As well as can be," she said, and her face turned up toward the sky. "I'm just looking for home." 

            "Looking for home?" He felt confused by her response, as he so often did.

            "The stars," she said. "I'm searching for familiar star patterns to try and ascertain my location." The tone of her voice changed then, becoming lower, with almost a note of hopelessness in it. "Not that I really expect to find anything. I've already run all of the permutations. So, I'm not really sure why I'm still out here."

            Boromir didn't understand everything she had said, but he understood the tone, and thought that perhaps, even if he could not settle upon her being a warrior and woman, he could for the moment acknowledge her as a companion that needed someone to simply be...a friend. 

            Almost hesitantly he put his hands out, feeling his way in the darkness and as he felt a sudden guiding hand take hold of his arm, he took a brief moment to wonder at her ability to see in the deep shadow. Sitting next to her he sensed her eyes upon him as he settled onto his seat. 

            Looking up at the stars he spoke. "Tell me of your home Lady, and I will speak of mine. Perhaps in the telling, we can both assuage some of our longing for our homes."

            She was silent for a long moment and then she began to speak, and Boromir listened, as her pleasant voice spoke simply and feelingly of her home. Wrapped in the first glimmerings of companionship the two sat long into the night trading stories and gazing at the distant stars. 

*          *          *

The Nazgul's hissing voice filled the chamber and even the monstrous thing of bone and muscle caged in the center cringed back from it. Faced with the black thing, the Numenorian searched his soul for the fear the other lesser beings around him felt when faced with the Ringwraiths, and found no fear, no horror, simply nothing. All inside him was empty. Dead. The Nazgul's chilling voice continued, carefully describing the being that had killed it's brethren, and the man felt a brief flicker of something once again stir in the abyss of his soul. 

Feeling: a thing both hated and hoped for, invaded the icy purity of desolation within him, causing both desire for, and a wish for the annihilation, of this nearly forgotten sensation. Conflicting emotions warred within him, his hatred of feeling as intense as his hunger for it. 

Moments later the Nazgul left the room, a shadow seeming to leave with it. The Numenorian barely noticed. The Great Lord had instructed him to prepare something special for the one who had killed the Ringwraith. He had been told of the being's unique nature, and though there was little that moved him any longer, a being that could kill one of the Nine as easily as this one had...that captured his interest as nothing else in long years. Anything that stirred that empty husk that was his soul was a thing he desired and hated, for it both reminded him of what he had once had, and gave him some illusion of being alive again.

He turned back toward the mountain of muscle, claws, and teeth that occupied the center of the room. Merely one of the creatures of his menagerie that he had been preparing for the task ahead. There were several more in the cages in the levels below. He had no illusions that he could create such things as Melkor once did in the depth of time, but observing the slavering beast in front of him, who's restlessly moving claws dug grooves into the stone of the floor, he knew what skill he possessed would be more than sufficient. 

Sauron had spoken. The one who had killed his servant must be brought before him or destroyed. 

*          *          *

            So it was that the company set out on a cold stormy gray afternoon at the end of December. The East wind drove the low ragged clouds overhead and rustled through the dark restless pines of the hills. They stepped upon the path out of the valley at the hour of dusk, for it was counseled by Elrond that they should make use of the night to hide their departure from Rivendell. 

            Andromeda, consulting with Aragorn, made sure to pack extra food and supplies into her burden, as the weight wouldn't slow her down at all. In the process she had let slip to him that she had no need to pack food for her self as didn't need to eat. The ranger had gone still in surprise and stared at her almost incredulously for a moment, and then shook his head ruefully. Her ears picked up his mutter, "Broken already."

            Standing in the courtyard Andromeda glanced round at the other members of the company around. Aragorn sat a little off to the side, his head bowed upon his knees. Andromeda thought she had some small idea of how painful it was for him to leave here, and had seen him speaking to Arwen some minutes before. She glanced up at the gray sky as a particularly powerful gust of wind rattled the tree branches overhead. 

            In spite of her resolve to help her friends, she still felt a reluctance to leave Rivendell. Perhaps it was because she had grown familiar with this place and had used it as something to cling to when cast adrift. 

            _In any case,_ she thought, _it won't stop me from doing my duty. Or what I perceive as it anyway._

            Gandalf finally exited the house accompanied by Elrond and the company gathered round.  

            Their goodbyes had been said, and Elrond spoke to them of the journey and trials that lay ahead. At the last, with a final farewell he sent them upon their way. Many members of the Household stood quietly among the porches and balconies of the house as the members of the Fellowship passed by and their voices followed, bidding farewell as the small group journeyed into the deepening twilight. Andromeda noticed that the song and music that had been so prevalent all the time she had been there was gone, but for the farewells, all voices were silent. 

            Crossing the bridge they made their way up the steep winding paths out of the valley of Rivendell and at last they came out upon the high moor with the heather whispering quietly about their legs.

            Andromeda dropped rearward, past Aragorn and Boromir, to the back of the Fellowship as they cleared the edge of the valley. She could see her companions and everything about her as easily as if it were day, benefits of electronic eyes, and she stopped at the rim of the valley to look down into it for long seconds. Then on impulse shifted her vision to the normal human spectrum. The night immediately closed in about, and there, nestled in the valley was the Last Homely House. Twinkling in the darkness with a hopeful golden light.

            That was what it meant to her, she suddenly realized, all of her reluctance to leave crystallizing in a single clear moment. She had associated it with the way home. Irrational, illogical, emotional, but true, and it was time to let it go.

            She had stood silently looking back into the valley for nearly a minute when Boromir, glancing back, noticed she had stopped, and halted. 

            "Lady? His voice was questioning. 

            Aragorn hearing Boromir's voice also looked back.

            She continued to look into the valley for a moment, and then turned away. "It's nothing Boromir," she said. There was a brief pause and when she spoke again her voice was almost a whisper, "Just giving up on going home." She gave him a tight smile as she turned back to the path and moved past him. Moving ahead, she did not see the expression of understanding and sadness that passed across Boromir's face as the looked at her retreating figure. The two men's gazes met, uncrowned king and stewards son, each seeing a similar sadness in the other's gaze, and then after a moment they turned and followed her slender form.


	9. Chapter 9

Intersections at Right Angles

By Verbosity

Chapter 9

Okay, Chapter 9! The next one should take them up to Redhorn Pass and through the journey to the gates of Moria. The chapter after that will be in Moria, probably with the big fight many of you have been waiting (and waiting…) for. 

Generally I just let the characters do whatever they want to, but if there are any characters or things you want to see more of (or interactions I can improve upon), tell me. And constructive feedback usually does get me to write faster.  

Andromeda offered to take all of the watches to allow the others more rest, but Aragorn rejected this, saying, "It is better for us if we grow accustomed to such hardship now, before the circumstances of the journey become dire. Though your watchfulness is something I would welcome; two sets of eyes will discern a danger more quickly than one."

Gandalf led the way at the front of the Fellowship, Aragorn beside him. The ranger knew the lay of the land even in the dark of night. Legolas and Andromeda, whose sight was the keenest, made up the rearguard. The others walked in file between. 

Moving by night, they slept during the days, making their way slowly south and east through the barren lands toward the mountains. A fortnight into the journey the weather cleared. The gray glowering sky lifted, clouds scattering before a wind out of the north, and the day dawned, pale and cold, shedding its light down upon the wearily marching travelers. 

In the golden light of morning they lit their fire in a great hollow, surrounded by the holly, and there was more good cheer in the meal then since they had set out from Rivandell. 

Stomach's full, they sat around the fire, enjoying the light of the pale autumn sun, and spoke of merrier times. The hobbits chatted longingly of the Shire, while Boromir spoke of Gondor, and Gimli told of Moria. 

"And you Rommie?" Pippin spoke up after Gimli had fallen silent. "Surely there are tales you could tell. I imagine the ones you have must be glorious. Full of all sorts of wonderful things."

"I'm not much of a storyteller Pippin." She glanced round at the company and, seeing their interested expressions, said, "But I'll try."

She considered what to tell them. Many of the things she could talk about involved concepts they had little grasp of. She decided to stick close to home. 

So, after a moments thought, she began to tell them about the Andromeda Ascendant's encounter with the Magog world-ship, weaving the tale carefully. Trying to put concepts of an interstellar culture into terms that could be understood by those from a medieval one. 

As she finished, round the fire there were expressions of wonder, amazement, and touches of confusion.

"I'm sorry I can't relate it more clearly. As I said I'm not much of a storyteller."

Gandalf spoke, "I think that it is not your telling that lacks, Andromeda, but our understanding."      

"Indeed. Yet the heart of the story rings true, for it is common to all places. A valiant struggle against darkness and evil, and the value of never surrendering to despair." Aragorn said. 

Andromeda smiled. "Dylan said something similar. When Beka questioned her ability to continue, he said, "All that matters in this world is that we try.""

"A wise man." The ranger said quietly then seemed to hesitate for a moment. "Andromeda, I remember your full name as you told it to Pippin and myself in the garden, days after you arrived. The name of the ship in your tale…" He trailed off, gazing at her in silent question.

"I was wondering if you would pick up on that. Yes, that's me."

The others, save Gandalf, looked between the two in confusion as Aragorn asked, "Is you? How is such a thing possible?"

Andromeda stared at him for a moment and then looked to Gandalf helplessly. "There's no way I can explain it."

Gandalf smiled at her and said to the others, "Think of her as more akin to the Valar and Maiar. Unable to cast aside her body and walk formless yet, like them, having other forms than the one you see before you."

"A ship to sail among the stars…" Boromir looked at her a new touch of wonder in his eyes. "As Vingilot carries Earendil."

"I suppose so." Andromeda said remembering the story from among the many told at Rivendell.     

There was a long moment of contemplative silence around the fire, before it was interrupted, by the growl of Sam's stomach. Chuckles joined it a moment later and Sam's face grew red. 

"I believe, my dear hobbit, that there is still a bit of dinner in the pan." There was a twinkle in Gandalf's eye as he spoke. "With which to quiet the beast you have hidden there." 

"I couldn't, I've already had my share."

"So have we, Sam," Aragorn said. "Yours is the only stomach still hungry."

"I wouldn't go that far." Frodo said. "But Strider's right. Go ahead and eat it, Sam."

Sam made one more protest. "You haven't had anything in days, Andromeda. I know you said you don't eat and all, but…" He trailed off as she shook her head. 

"Eat, Sam." 

He dug in to the remainders, muttering about there being no way for a hobbit to get the proper number of meals under these conditions. 

"Not eating," Merry said. He glanced away from Sam, to Andromeda. "What a horrible thought. Takes all the joy right out of life."

"I don't know, I find it kind of useful at times. I can eat if I want to, but my body just doesn't do anything with it."  

"But how can you not eat? We would waste away. If I remember the stories right, even the Maiar who came to Middle-Earth had to." Pippin glanced at Gandalf as he said this. The old wizard nodded. 

 "Think of it this way Pippin: all of my life is stored inside me right now. Where all of you need to take in food to restore your energy, all of mine I already have."

            Boromir considered this for a moment and then spoke, "What happens when this energy is at last exhausted?"

            Andromeda smiled a little sadly, thinking that her current power cell was the last one she would likely ever have. "If I were home it could be replaced, but as matters stand, when it finally runs out, I'll die."

            Her quiet statement was met with a heavy silence from round the fire. 

            "How long will this take?" Boromir asked softly. There was some unreadable emotion in his eyes. 

            "You don't need to worry, it will be years before I deplete it. Decades probably." 

            Everyone around the fire obviously found that a disturbing thought. Andromeda was touched by the fact that they so clearly cared. 

It was strange she reflected. Back home, emotions were to be hidden and not shown unless one was in extremity, and even after, they were a source of embarrassment. The peoples of Middle-Earth didn't seem to have that taboo, they wore their hearts openly without any of the social deceptions that so bounded humans in the Commonwealth. She felt a sudden urge to find some way to comfort them.

            "You don't need to be too sad," she said. "After all, it's just a part of me here. The rest of me, the majority in fact, is back home and if my existence ceases here, that part of me will continue." She gave a little shrug, "So, I won't be completely gone."

*          *            *

            The passing of the crebain over their campsite jolted the company into caution and no more fires were lit. The silence that Aragorn observed in the land around them deepened as they moved east. Moving by night once again, they made their way toward the Redhorn Pass. It was approaching midnight when they struck a path headed in the direction of their travel. It looked to be the remains of an ancient road, once broad and well made, now crumbling into ruin.

            Andromeda, walking beside Boromir this night, was keeping a careful watch on the surrounding countryside. Aragorn's restless agitation at the strange silence of the surrounding land made her extra cautious, thus her sensors caught a whisper of the thing's passage before it was even overhead.

            It was big, whatever it was. Her head snapped up to try and find it even as she kicked her sensors into an active mode. 

            "Lady?" Boromir murmured.    

            She found it just about to pass above them about five hundred meters up_. That's got to be a thirty-meter wingspan. The bio-readings are really off too._

            It passed over and a moment later she heard Frodo whisper to Gandalf, "Did you see anything pass over?"

            "No, but I felt it." The wizard was looking back toward Andromeda. "What did you see, Andromeda?"

            "I'm not sure. Something big. I don't think it saw us. The wingspan was almost ten widths of this road across. The bio-readings were strange, as if the biological functions of the creature had been twisted around. It actually looked somewhat like the gene engineering I've seen."

             If some of terms were unfamiliar to Gandalf, the meaning came through clearly, and he said, "Sauron has long been skilled at twisting both men and beast into other forms to serve his purposes."

            "To see a creature of Barad-dur so far from Mordor, now of all times, is disturbing. It bodes ill." Aragorn said. 

            The other members of the company were alert now Legolas was scanning the sky and land around, his bow at the ready, while Gimli fingered his axe. Boromir had a hand on his sword hilt and was glancing uneasily at the sky. The hobbits were clustered nervously at the center of the group around Bill, the pony. 

            "The enemy has turned his gaze toward Hollin, searching for us. We must move with both speed and caution." Gandalf said.

            The rest of the night was uneventful. It passed without any sign of either crebain or their other unnamed visitor. Passing into the foothills of the Misty Mountains, the path twisted and turned, climbing ever higher. That day they camped in the shelter of a dell filled with tumbled boulders and small trees.

            The company slept in the shadows of the trees, save for Gandalf, who sat wrapped in his gray cloak upon a large partially sunken stone of granite. 

            Andromeda joined him on the stone and they sat gazing at the peaks in the distance. 

            "I've been meaning to ask you something. Well, lots of things actually, but I'll get to the rest later."

            Gandalf looked back at her curiously, removing a pipe and a small packet from some inner pocket of his robes. Filling the pipe with pipeweed he lit it by murmuring some word she didn't recognize. That done he puffed on the pipe and looked at her inquiringly.    

            S_udden spark. No detectable cause. Hum._

"Some of the elves were disturbed by what I was, others not. The division seemed to cut along lines of race. The gray eyed dark haired, in general seemed less put off." She cocked her head to look up at Gandalf.

            "Yes, the Noldor." He inhaled on the pipe for a moment then let out a smoke ring into the crisp mountain air.

            Andromeda watched as it drifted slowly away before stopping a short distance in front of them to hover, still, in the air. Looking at it, she idly analyzed the airflow and heat induced dispersion of the smoke, and frowned. _It shouldn't do that_. She examined him out of the corner of her eye and spoke, "Stop that. It really screws with my perceptions when you start tinkering with physical laws."

            An amused chuckle sounded from him and the smoke ring abruptly dispersed into the night breeze. 

            "What is it about the Noldor?" She prodded him.

            The elves have a strong connection to the forces and nature of the world. Some have gravitated toward the crafting of new things, while others delight in the cultivation of nature. The Noldor had always a strong friendship with Aule and of old learned much from him. The crafting of substances- metals, gems, glass: all things that did not have life of their own. All these things he taught them. That you are life, given to the lifeless, is a thing of fascination to many of them."

            "And the others?"

            "They have not the kinship with Aule." He paused looking at her thoughtfully for a moment. "And this technology you speak of is in many ways like that which Sauron uses to his ends. For he was once a Maiar of Aule and much of his skill remains with him, even now. Sauron, in his creation wreaks only destruction, and I think that the elves see the end of what was, and the changing of the world in this thing you name technology. I think the change frightens them, for they cannot see where it leads."     

            He gazed off into the distance his eyes focused on some vision in his memory. When he spoke his voice was soft.  "At the beginning Illuvatar showed the Ainur a vision of all that would be. Each perceived according to their stature, and none perceived it all, for Illuvatar kept much unrevealed. But in it I saw a fleeting glimpse of the end. It was a thing of such glory and splendor that in all the ages since, I have never found a language that had the words to describe it."   

Andromeda sat in silence, beside the old wizard staring into the distance, pipe forgotten in one hand, gazing at a vision only he could see. There was a strange light in his face, transforming it into something more than human. It was a subtle thing, more felt then seen, and particularly disturbing to Andromeda who was still not used to perceiving things that didn't register on her sensors. A feeling she was unaccustomed to touched her and it took a moment to identify it: awe. She had heard him when told her that he was a Maiar, but she hadn't really thought about what it meant. 

He was an entirely different order of life from any she had met. Strangely, or perhaps not so, she remembered what Tyr had once said, "I'd never seen an angel before."

Gandalf's gaze turned away from the distance and rested upon her. "Well, it's no use dwelling in memories, but whenever the burden becomes to great, I remember."  And as simple as that, the remote being he had become for a brief moment, was gone, replaced by Gandalf. The Gandalf that gazed at her with what she had come to think a paternal look might be something like. 

The sense of awe faded, to be replaced by a more mischievous bent. "So, I guess Harper's expression "older than dirt" really applies to you, hunh?

A surprised snort of laughter burst out of him before being quickly stifled. Aragorn, Legolas, and Boromir, all awakened by the wizards sudden laugh, looked toward the noise to see what was amiss. They saw only a grinning woman sitting next to an old man who was laughing silently so hard that tears were in his eyes. Legolas smiled and simply returned to his reverie. Boromir traded gazes with Aragorn, who shrugged and settled back into his sleeping roll. The warrior stared at the two on the rock for a long moment and then lay back down. He could hear the murmur of Andromeda's voice, but couldn't make out the words as she spoke to the wizard, and soon he was lulled back into dreams by the gentle sound.   


	10. Chapter 10

Intersections at Right Angles

By Verbosity

Hello all. Finals are done and the semester is over with. Yes! Here is the next chapter. All the way to Moria, just like I promised. For the next chapter, a lot of dark, a bit of traveling, and a really big fight. 

As always, I hunger for pithy feedback. 

Feed me.

Chapter 10 

At Boromir's suggestion the company gathered firewood for the journey over the pass before they reached above the tree line. They would burn it only at desperate need; the light of a fire would be seen for leagues.

Setting out again in late afternoon the company moved swiftly at first. Soon, however, the path became steeper and more difficult, and their progress slowed. They reached parts of the trail where snow remained on the ground from the first storms of the winter and slogged their way laboriously up the slope. Andromeda turned at Aragorn's cry of, "Frodo!" To see the hobbit sliding down the slope, to stop near the ranger's feet. Aragorn pulled up and steadied him, as Frodo began to grope frantically at the opening of his shirt. 

Boromir moved an instant before she spotted it. The Ring was lying in the snow just a couple yards from him and he stepped towards it, and picked it up by the long chain.

He held it up before his face, staring at it with fascination and said, "It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing." His voice grew soft.  "Such a little thing." 

"Boromir." Aragorn said.

Andromeda glanced down the slope to where the ranger and Frodo stood. Both gazed toward Boromir with sharp concern and she saw Aragorn's hand close over his sword hilt. The ranger's worried gaze darted momentarily to her, where she stood just a little behind and to the right of Boromir. She met his eyes for an instant then returned her attention to Boromir's face. He seemed entranced by the circle of gold suspended on the chain. She didn't know him very well yet, but this behavior was not normal.

As he began to reach for the ring with his other hand, Andromeda stepped closer and set a hand on his shoulder. "Boromir," she said.

He jerked, as if a sleeper suddenly awakened, and turned his head toward her. 

"That's not you, it's the Ring. The desire you're feeling for it." She thought for a moment about what part of him to appeal to. "Are you going to let it tell you what you want?"

Boromir's gaze traveled from her to the ring and back. She knew could take it away from him if she had to, but would much prefer, for everyone's sake, particularly his, that he give it back. 

He shook himself once more, and holding the ring out in front of him like a live viper, walked to Frodo and gave it to the hobbit. 

There was a communal release of breath as he did so, and a relax of tension. As the Fellowship started on its way again Andromeda and Aragorn were the only ones to catch sight of the conflicted look on Boromir's face.

The path wound on and the hour grew later as clouds began to build overhead. Night fell, closing swiftly around the companions, dropping the temperature and causing the wind to pick up.  

The clouds gathering in the sky above deepened the darkness of night until not even the faintest glimmer of light shone from the stars and moon above. The path wound ever upwards, becoming rockier and more treacherous with every mile.  

Andromeda picked up a temperature shift and looked up just as small white flakes of snow began settling out of the darkness above. The gray flank of Caradhras towered upward beside them, disappearing beyond the reach of even her eyes, into the night above. The snow, coming down harder, began to obscure vision and cover the ground.

At the front of the company Gandalf halted. Andromeda listened as he and the others spoke about the storm and its possible cause. Legolas drew her attention, the elf seemed unsettled, shifting and glancing around, listening to the wind and casting dark looks into the storm above.

"What is it?" She asked.

The elf glanced down at her and then his eyes flicked back up toward the sky. "I feel a great ill in the storm. Full of malicious anger and hate."

Andromeda followed his gaze upward, even as she heard Gandalf's reply to Gimli's statement that the arm of Sauron must have grown long if he could reach them here, three hundred leagues away. 

"His arm has indeed grown long," said the wizard. 

*          *          *

            The wind picked up when they resumed their trek, howling its rage, hurling the snow into their faces. The snowfall became a blizzard and Boromir could barely see everyone in the company. The hobbits were bent up against the wind taking cover in the lee of the larger members of the Company. He glanced at Pippin as the hobbit trudged behind him, noting how miserable he looked. It didn't look like the hobbits could go much farther. Occasionally over the wind he could hear Gimli's grumbling as he forged forward against the wind. Even the stout dwarf was having trouble with the storm. Once again he glanced at the two members of the company who seemed to be most untroubled by the elements. 

            Legolas moved easily against the wind, just seeming to slip through it, barely taking notice of the swiftly piling snow. The elf did not seem greatly bothered by the freezing winds either. Boromir's gaze then drifted to the slight being walking in front of Sam. 

            Andromeda seemed perfectly untroubled by the cold, snow, or winds. It was not like the elf, who appeared detached from such troubles. No, it was simply that she ignored them, as if they were insignificant, and mattered not at all to her. 

            And perhaps they didn't, he mused. Her nature was such that little that affected mortal man seemed able to touch her. His thought darkened as he recalled what she had revealed around the fire, about her lifespan in Middle-Earth. In that regard she was more mortal than he. He found the though oddly disturbing.

            The wind gusted suddenly, nearly knocking the smaller members of the party from their feet, and all at once the company came to a halt. The darkness around was filled with the howl and shriek of the wind, it's throatless voice pouring forth whispers and malevolent laughter. 

            Boromir looked around at the company. The hobbits were shivering, exhausted, and nearly dropping where they stood. Even Aragorn and Gimli were showing signs of wear. The only member of the Fellowship not seeming even the least tired was Andromeda, though even she showed signs of the rigors of the last few hours. There was snow and ice worked into her hair and peppered upon her body where it hadn't been shaken off by her movement. 

            Taking this in he called out, "We can go no further tonight. This is no mere storm, whatever it's source."

            "Caradhras was know to be cruel, and had an ill name long before any rumor of Sauron reached these lands," Gimli said. 

            Who the enemy is matters not if we cannot turn aside his assault. Further along the path there is even less shelter from the storm," Gandalf said. "So we must either hold here until it passes, or go back." 

            Aragorn shook his head, and spoke, "The storm would soon overwhelm the hobbits. We must take what shelter we can here."

The company huddled together at the base of the cliff, taking what relief it offered from the biting winds. The snow continued to come down, piling deeper and deeper.

Hours passed, and the snow deepened until it passed the hocks of the pony. Boromir flexed hands grown numb with the cold and moved to uncover Frodo, who was nearly buried in snow. The hobbit seemed groggy, unfocused, and Boromir shook him gently. He'd seen this before, in men who were near to freezing to death. They couldn't endure much longer in this cold.

            "This can't continue." Andromeda's voice came from beside him. "Their body temperatures are getting dangerously low."

            As if hearing the possibility of victory over its enemies the wind redoubled it ferocity, blowing harder and whirling snow about even thicker than before.

            "We need a fire," Boromir said. "It seems a clear choice now between that and death. What say you, Gandalf?"

            "Make a fire," Gandalf said. "If there are any watching that can endure the storm, then they need no fire to see us."

            They swiftly cleared a space in the snow and laid out the kindling and wood, but between the wind, snow and frozen wood, not even Gimli or Legolas could strike a flame that would catch. 

            Gandalf reluctantly stepped forward, reaching down to pick up a faggot. Indeed, Boromir thought, it was going to take wizardry to light the wood in this storm. Andromeda seized hold of Gandalf's arm before he could pick up the wood. 

            "Will anyone be able to sense this like I do?" She asked.

            "Yes," Gandalf said. "This will make it quite obvious to any with the eyes to see, that I am here."

            "Then, in the interests of not drawing attention, it's probably better if I do it."

            The wizard looked silently at her a moment and then stepped back. Boromir looked at them, confused, and glanced at Aragorn, only to see the ranger just as much at a loss. Was magic another of her hidden skills?

            He watched as she knelt next to the kindling and his bafflement increased as she pulled off her coat. She set it to the side and the company traded glances over her apparent disregard for the cold. Completely unaffected by the spiting snow and howling wind, she pushed up one of her sleeves, and removed her knife from her belt. Boromir watched with sudden alarm as she brought it to the skin of her forearm. 

            "Lady!" He lunged forward, grasping hold of her wrist, noticing that Aragorn too, had stepped closer.

            Her brown eyes met his. "It's alright Boromir. There won't be any lasting harm; in a few hours it will be good as new. I'd rather a little discomfort now than face an army later on because the enemy knew where we were. Let go."

            Her gaze remained steady, and slowly, reluctantly, he did as she asked. Glancing at Aragorn he saw the ranger was as discomfited as he was. Gandalf's face was grave as he carefully watched, his eyes never leaving Andromeda. 

            Placing the knife, she pushed it just through the skin and, in one smooth motion, cut a slit in it almost the entire length of her forearm. Boromir's breath hissed through his teeth, as he expected a gush of blood. It didn't come. There was a slight bleeding of a dark liquid at a few points in the incision, but that was all. 

            Those watching leaned forward, pulled by a sort of horrid fascination, as she set the blade down, carefully pushed the skin aside, and began to do something with the internal structure of her arm.

            Boromir caught glimpses of not flesh and blood, as he knew it, but rather materials he had never seen before. 

            Swallowing heavily he tore his gaze away and glanced at her face. She was calm, not displaying any pain as she dug into the insides of her arm. A swift glance around displayed the reactions of the company.

            Gimli had leaned closer, watching with fascination, while the hobbits were wide eyed and had gone a pale. Aragorn's expression revealed not so much discomfort over what was revealed but concern for Andromeda, while Legolas watched with a thoughtful expression. 

            Andromeda, moving with careful deliberation, pulled what looked like one end of a fine length of string or cord out of the incision. Her gaze was suddenly turned inward, as if to some internal process, and the end of the length began to glow, casting odd shadows onto the watching faces. A slight crackle could be heard even through the noise of the wind and from his position next to her, Boromir caught an unfamiliar sharp smell before the wind whirled it away. As she leaned down and inserted the glowing crackling end into the kindling he remembered where he had seen light such as that before. It was like the lightning that flickered and played in the clouds of a thunderstorm. 

            As soon as the end touched the kindling it began to smoke, and then burst into flame. The wind tried to extinguish the newborn flame but Andromeda kept the length inserted until all of it was burning.

            There was a frozen moment when she leaned back from the fire, everyone looking as more at her arm then the flame.

            Andromeda looked up from her arm and, looking around, said, "It might be a good idea if someone put some more wood on the fire, before it goes out."

            The paralysis broke and Aragorn swiftly added larger pieces to the flame that crackled merrily up in defiance of the storm. The flames heat and brightness cheered the Company, even as it melted snow and pushed back the night. 

            Boromir watched out of the corner of his eye as Andromeda tucked the no longer glowing piece of her back inside and moved everything carefully into place. The light of the fire now revealed much more, and it gleamed off a couple things inside her that seemed metallic, while illuminating other substances, the like of which he had never seen. Finishing, she cast about for a moment, and he realized that she was looking for something to bind the wound, just a moment before Gandalf leaned down with bandages from his pack in hand. She took them and cast a grateful smile up at him.

            "How long will it take to heal?" Gandalf asked.

            "A few hours. Say midmorning, or thereabouts."  

            As the fire burned and the evening moved on Boromir couldn't help casting glances at her, disturbed. So alike us on the outside, but so very different on the inside. 

*          *          *

            Andromeda glanced upward into the clouds overhead. The snow still fell, but less hard now. She could see a slight lightening behind the clouds still invisible to any human eye but clear to her gaze. Analyzing the cloud composition as the others consulted over the decision to continue forward or go back, she came to the conclusion that the storm, while currently abating, was not nearly blown out.

            She had been standing for some time when Gandalf stepped up beside her and, together, they watched as the land slowly brightened until the world was bathed in a soft gray light. The snow was piled deep, mounded over rocks and boulders, and chest high in many places. 

            The wizard sighed as he glanced upward at the threatening clouds and the mountain above. "Caradhras has snow yet left to fling at us. It seems we must go back and take another road."

            Andromeda nodded, having overheard as much from the conversation. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him studying her.

            "You're disturbed about something." 

            Andromeda glanced behind at the others as they prepared to get underway. She spoke softly to keep any from overhearing. "Not so much disturbed. Just worried over how the others will react to me now. How different I am was just an idea before, now it is something far more real." She pulled the arm out of her coat and pushed her sleeve. All that remained of the incision was a thin line in the layers of her skin.

            "You're afraid of their rejection." Gandalf stated, in a similarly quiet tone.

            Andromeda was silent staring into the distance. If they rejected her, what she was, then she would be alone. And paradoxically, as capable as she was, being alone was not something she could handle. Hard experience had taught her that AI's left alone were not a good thing. They tended to go insane, and as little fear as she had about other things, that terrified her.  

            She turned her head to glance at the wizard and found herself meeting his eyes. She'd spoken with him of what had happened to those other AI's but hadn't told him directly about her fear of it. Looking into his eyes she realized, he already knew.

            "Firstly, in the unlikely possibility that such a thing should occur, I will make certain you are not alone. Secondly, and perhaps far more important, it will not happen." His voice was gently chiding. "You do our companions a disservice by thinking them capable of such an abandonment."

            Gandalf paused for a moment and continued, "Gimli, for one, was not at all put off by this more…pointed revelation of what you are. The friendship of the dwarves is more steadfast than the mountains, and he would not abandon you while there is life within him. Aragorn will not judge you by your flesh; it matters not to him what you are made of, only the strength of your character. The hobbits have a far stronger spirit in them than you might imagine, it is a shock to them, but they will swiftly recover from it. And Legolas is honorable and not one to judge based upon such considerations, nor to abandon a comrade."  

"I notice you don't mention Boromir."

"Boromir has a good heart," Gandalf sighed. "I believe he can overcome any bias, but I do not know if he will." 

There came a hail from behind them, signaling the others readiness to depart.

It took most of the morning to make their way back down the path and out of the snow. With the departure of the company from the pass the storm, Andromeda noted, in defiance of all the information she had on weather patterns, began to disperse. It seemed the malice of the mountain was exhausted.

            From one of the mountain ridges they looked out over the western lands. Andromeda saw black specks in the distance, and shifting her eyes to a telescopic mode, she took a closer look. 

            "More Crebain," she said, pointing.

            "There is nothing to be done now." Gandalf said. "We must continue on, whether they are good or ill."

*          *          *

            "Only one other road choice lies before us," said Gandalf. "I have spoken of it with Aragorn and Andromeda in council with Elrond. Aragon has spoken against it, but I see so other way." 

            "Worse than the Redhorn Gate?" Merry asked. "The storm was bad enough, this way must be truly terrible."

            The road I speak of is the path through the Mines of Moria," said Gandalf.

            "If indeed the path leads through," Aragorn commented darkly.

            Looking around Andromeda saw the name of Moria had passed an uneasy feeling to all the Company, save for Gimli, who seemed fired by its mention.  

            I see no need to go by such a dark way," Boromir said. "The men of Rohan have always been allies to those of Gondor and would surely welcome us through their lands."

            "Matters have changed, Boromir," said Gandalf. "The betrayal of Saruman, makes that way far more dangerous. I would not take the Ring within his reach if there were any other choice."

            "I would take this path with you Gandalf," said Gimli. "To look upon the Halls of Durin is something I have greatly desired. And remember, it was there that Balin and others of the Lonely Mountain journeyed, so we may yet find a royal welcome."

            "I will not go unless the vote of the whole Fellowship is against me," said Boromir. "What say the others?"

            "I will follow you Gandalf," said Aragorn. "As you followed my course into the snows of Caradhras, I can do no less." Yet there was foreboding in his voice and face. "But I feel that you should beware passing the gates of Moria." He met the wizards eyes for a long moment

            "I do not wish to enter Moria, but I, too, see no other path," said Legolas. "I will go." 

            The hobbits looked at each other and were silent. Finally Frodo spoke, "I do not think that any of us wish to pass the doors of Moria, but I also know the counsel of Gandalf to be wise. We will follow him into Moria."

            Andromeda suddenly found herself the focus of the Company, being the only one not having voiced an opinion. 

            "I know very little about Moria, only what I've been told in counsel, and," she smiled a little, looking at the dwarf, who was brimming with anticipation a the thought of Moria. "From Gimli's stories. So I must go with the experienced voices." She nodded to Gandalf and Aragorn. "I'll go."

             Boromir gave an unhappy sigh, "So be it."

*          *          *

            _That_, Andromeda thought, _is not healthy water._

            She was standing on the shoreline, string out over its stagnant surface. Glancing once at the smooth gray cliffs looming up behind, and the Company resting at the base, she turned back to the pool. She was picking up traces of organic matter in the water. 

            Frowning, she shifted her active sensors on. The water was being particularly stubborn about blocking most of her scan, but she could see…

            "Andromeda." Gandalf had turned away from where he sat contemplating the doors. "Do not. It would be wiser to do that as little as possible during this part of the journey. I don't yet know who or what may sense you."

            Andromeda cut her sensors, but stood silently processing the readings. 

            The Company had looked up at Gandalf's words, but seeing only Andromeda standing at the waters edge, had looked at one another in confusion. 

            The wind bore the far off sound of wolves to their ears and the pony started in fear. Sam took hold of his tack and soothed him.

            "Keep hold of him," said Boromir. "It seems we may need him yet if the wizard cannot open the door." Turning he stalked near to Andromeda and the lake. "I do hate this fetid pool." He picked up a stone and made to hurl it out into the lake.

            Even as the stone left his hand Andromeda's hand flashed out faster than any watching could follow, and the rock made solid smack as it impacted her palm. Pippin gave a startled yelp at the speed and suddenness of the unexpected motion. Boromir stared at her; she hadn't turned her attention away from the lake, she had caught it without even looking.

            "Don't disturb the water." Andromeda's voice was quiet but with an uncharacteristic intensity that drew the Fellowship's attention. 

            "Andromeda?" Aragorn lifted himself from the rock upon which he had been sitting.

            "There's something down there," Andromeda replied, never taking her eyes from the lake.

            Everyone followed her gaze to the dark, still, water.

            "A fish," said Boromir. But his voice was uncertain. 

            Andromeda shook her head. "It's big. The water is keeping me from getting a good idea of what it is though."

             "Is it moving?" Aragorn asked.

            "No, it's lying still on the bottom."

            "Could it be dead?" Boromir asked.

            "No." Andromeda's voice was certain.

            "Now I know why I am so afraid of the pool," said Frodo. The hobbit had backed up from the water as much as possible and stood close to where Gandalf sat.

            The wizard had turned back to the doors from looking at the lake when he suddenly crowed, "Of course!" He laughed. "So very simple." He stood before the doors and spoke in a clear voice, "Mellon!"

            Smoothly and silently the doors opened, revealing a square portal into darkness. They all stepped toward the opening when Andromeda stopped and snapped back around toward the water. 

            "Inside, now!" Her urgent yell brought the company's attention back to her. "It's coming up!"

            The Fellowship began to move, snatching at equipment and racing for the door. Andromeda grabbed to two nearest hobbits, Merry and Pippin, and propelled them through the doorway. There was a great hissing noise and the water began to boil with motion. A terrible stench filled the air as long sinuous arms burst forth from the waters. The arms groped through the air heading for Frodo.   

            Andromeda raced toward him and caught hold just as one of the tentacles seized Frodo's leg. She reached for her sword, but Sam, always near to his master, was already hacking at it with his knife. The arm let go as a shrieking hiss escaped from somewhere in the mass of writhing arms. As more tentacles reached for them Andromeda picked up both hobbits and dove for the entrance. She twisted beneath the hobbits to absorb the impact as they came down on the stone floor inside the entry.

            "Quickly! Inside, and up the stairs!" Gandalf was shouting to the rest of the company. 

            They made it just in time. The coiling tentacles groped across the threshold, and not finding what they sought took their rage out upon the doors. Multiple limbs seized each of the doors and with hideous strength, wrenched them closed. 

            Andromeda, standing in the darkness, could hear the booming and feel vibrations as objects were hurled at the gates from outside. Slowly the sounds faded until only silence reigned.    


	11. Chapter 11

Intersections at Right Angles 

Chapter 11

By Verbosity

Life is odd. That's all I have to say about my particular life at this time. It's just weird. 

A big thanks to all those still reading, in spite of my long absences. I hope the story is reward enough. 

I've taken the occasional bit of dialogue from the movie or book, it's not intended as plagerism. Those particular lines are not mine, be aware of that. Anyone who has read the book or seen the movie should recognize them.

                                The tip of Gandalf's staff glowed, illuminating the chamber in a washed-out light. 

                                "Well," the wizard said. "The way behind is closed, and the way before us is all that is left. Passage from the West-door to the East-gate is at least forty miles, perhaps three or four marches, and that is only if there is not mishap along the way."

                                "Mishap," said Boromir softly as he glanced down at the desiccated corpses of the dwarves that littered the entry hall. 

                                All the company had been casting glances at them since Gandalf had created a light. It appeared Balin's people had met with misfortune, Orcs namely. 

                                "Let us make haste, and hope that our presence shall go unnoticed. Gimli shall walk with me. Follow my staff."

                                The Company formed up as Gandalf moved ahead upon the stairs. Gimli, then Frodo, Sam, Legolas, the younger hobbits, and Boromir followed the wizard closely. Aragorn brought up the rear, almost lost on the darkness. 

                                Andromeda dropped back until she walked next to him. He glanced at her once, silently, and then continued his wary watch of the surroundings.

                                "You seem grim," said Andromeda in a low voice.

                                The ranger nodded. "My heart misgives me about this path. I passed the doors of Moria once before, years ago, and the memory weighs darkly upon me. I have not the eyes of an Orc, Dwarf, or," he glanced down at her with the barest glimmer of a smile. "An android, with which to see through the darkness."

                                She reached down to the small belt kit that she still retained, but had had no cause yet to use since she arrived. She pulled out the palm light, set it to omni directional, and then flicked it on.

                                Aragorn started in the sudden wash of light and there were exclamations and the sound of people turning around quickly from ahead. Andromeda held the light out to him and after a moment he hesitantly took it. 

                                "Press this and it turns directional," she said, demonstrating. The general glow transformed into a single brilliant beam of light, causing Boromir to shield his eyes as the beam focused on him. "Useful for searching," she looked at Boromir with at slight smirk. "And blinding. This button, here, turns it off." She pushed it and the darkness gathered round again. 

                                She looked to where the company was staring at them. "What? I didn't loose everything when I came here." To Aragorn she said, "It has about twelve continuous days of power, use it sparingly, and it will last a lot longer." 

                                He studied the light in his hand carefully, and then said, "Thank you, Andromeda. I will take care with it."

                                Smiling at him she said, "Use it when you need it. It's probably better to have a couple sources of light down here." She glanced at Gandalf as she spoke. 

                                "You wouldn't happen to have a few more of those would you?" asked Sam.

                                "Sorry Sam. Just the one. But don't worry, we won't let anything happen to you."

                                The Company continued on, along winding and twisting passages, slowly descending. After several hours the passage leveled and they continued along a smooth even way. The air grew hotter and it's stifling weight was interrupted at times by currents and eddies of cooler air out of the doorways that broke the walls. Andromeda kept a careful watch as they passed doors and arches leading off into other passages and rooms. Some would slope upward or down, others broke into stairs that twisted out of sight. She could sense the presence of more passages beyond the ones her eyes revealed to her; the air currents and pressure changes spoke of long tunnels and vast open spaces. The signs told of an underground city that rivaled ones she had seen on other, more advanced worlds. 

                                She caught the noise of moving water from ahead and soon they came to a fissure in the floor, splitting the hallway. Nearly three meters across, it took some time to get everyone across the gap, while the sound of churning water rose up out of the invisible depths. As they left it behind she heard Sam muttering about not having any rope. 

                                The fissures and holes became more frequent as they continued on, slowing the Company, and she could see the weariness of her companions. She was about to voice her concern when they reached a major split in the passage. The Company piled up behind Gandalf as he stood before a series of three arches. They all led in generally the same direction, one sloping up, one down, and the other moving straight on. 

                                The wizard stood silently in front of the arches, apparently at a loss. "I have no memory of this place," he said. 

                                Andromeda spoke up. "It's well past midnight, and I expect you're as tired as everyone else is. Let's rest on it. Maybe the memory will come to you."

                                The suggestion was met with agreement from all and the company found room to the side, a guard post at some time in the past, and settled in for the rest of the night. 

                                Andromeda kept watch as everyone slept, well, almost everyone; she could tell from the pattern of Gandalf's respiration that he was lying awake and not sleeping. Probably worrying over which passage to take. Just like Dylan. 

                                She considered for a moment how much of a burden it was to lead people. It was something she rarely had to do. It wasn't that she couldn't, but she had been made with service in mind and not leadership. 

                                An hour passed and Gandalf stirred from his sleeping pad. He rose and moved to sit beside Andromeda. The wizard spoke no words as he sat, just removed his pipe and in a few moments was puffing contentedly, the pipe a faint glow in the darkness. Time passed, and Andromeda was content to simply sit in his presence, watching over the rest of the Company. The feeling of protectiveness was oddly familiar, and after a moments reflection she realized why. 

                                They'd replaced her crew. 

                                Not in the literal sense of course, but she had been made to care for her crew, it was one of the fundamental elements of her nature. She had a drive, a need, to care for and protect these fragile creatures that relied upon her. It was as basic a need for her as the need for companionship. She couldn't live without some form of it, so here, where she had no crew, she substituted as best she could.

                                Her eyes traveled over the sleeping forms before her and she felt a touch of amusement. They were as mismatched and ragtag a band as Dylan's crew was. She did occasionally miss the sense of discipline that a pre-fall Commonwealth crew gave. A slight smile curved her lips. On the other hand, these two mismatched bands of travelers, one sailing the stars to restore a Commonwealth, the other on a quest to save a world, were a lot more interesting. 

                                A puff of smoke from Gandalf's pipe drifted past and she turned her thoughts to him. Why did he do it? From what she understood his kind had little in common with the other races of this world. She had the sense that he had sacrificed a great deal to help the peoples of Middle-Earth. And, now, when she had appeared, an alien stranger, he had immediately taken her under his proverbial wing. Why?

                                Andromeda turned her head to ask him but stopped before the question was voiced. The wizard was staring into the darkness, apparently focused not on the present, but rather some distant memory. Later. She would ask him later. It was more important that he remember which direction to take. 

                                She turned back to continue her watch over her sleeping companions. This journey wasn't going to end anytime soon. She'd have time to ask him later. 

*                                *                                *

                                "Behold the great dwarven realm and city of the Dwarrowdelf!" Said Gandalf as he raised his staff high.  The light on the end of his staff flared up brilliantly, illuminating the vast space before them. A forest of mighty pillars stretched from the floor to the ceiling far overhead. 

                                Boromir heard Sam murmur an awed comment before the company moved into the hall, lead by Gandalf and Gimli. 

                                The open space of the hall was something of a relief to Boromir. He was no stranger to stone or the underground. Many of the buildings of Minas Tirith were built into the peak it abutted. He had spent much of his life living in such places, but never before had he been underground for so long a time. Nor so deep. There were moments he could imagine the terrible weight of the mountain grinding downward upon them, its weight causing the darkness to ooze upward out of the roots of the world. A darkness broken only by the light of Gandalf's staff and that wondrous lamp that Andromeda had given to Aragorn.

                                His eyes moved, as he found them doing so often now, to the slender form walking just ahead, near Gimli. The dwarf was enthusiastically expounding upon some point of interest about the dwarves of Moria, in a low voice, with Andromeda listening attentively.

                                His soul was in turmoil, though not simply because of his confusion over Andromeda. The Ring kept intruding upon his thoughts, a band of gold that seemed to grow more prominent in his mind as time passed. What he could accomplish with it: the freedom of Gondor from the shadow of Sauron, restoring it to its former glory. And here, they were journeying to destroy it. 

                                Boromir's eyes drifted to rest on Frodo, following the thoughts passing through his mind. He had only a moment to contemplate the hobbit before the Gimli's cry brought his attention to the front of the company. 

                                The dwarf ran ahead, passing Gandalf, toward a door in the side of the great hall. A brilliant spear of sunlight stabbed downward at an angle from a window set high into the stone and illuminated the door. 

                                The Company followed in the dwarf's wake. There had been a battle here, Boromir observed. Much as at the gates, the desiccated corpses of dwarves lay strewn about, scattered among the detritus of battle. Doors, scarred and hacked, stood open as Boromir approached. The sunlight shone through a rectangular hole carved in the stone above the doors and into the room beyond. The white marble, of what Boromir realized was a tomb, shone in the light: seeming to glow in contrast to the surrounding shadows.  

                                The others stood, nervously, glancing around at the evidence of battle. Gandalf passed where Gimli knelt at the foot of the crypt and read from the characters engraved upon the stone, "Here lies Balin, son of Fundin. Lord of Moria." The wizard paused, and then spoke again with a sad sigh, "He is dead then. It is as I feared."

                                The silence was broken only by the sounds of Gimli's grief, as he knelt at the base of his cousin's tomb. Boromir moved to the dwarf's side and set a comforting hand on his shoulder. A slight rustle and sound of something being moved caught his attention, and he looked to see Andromeda lifting a book from the grasp of a long dead dwarf. 

                                Gandalf stood at her shoulder as she gingerly turned the pages. 

                                "It looks like a log, or a journal, of their time here." Her voice carried in the quiet room. "There are a couple dialects of Elven, and another language I don't recognize."

                                "Dwarf runes," Gandalf said. "Turn toward the end. Those will be the passages of immediate interest to us."

                                As the pages rustled Boromir heard Legolas whisper to Aragorn. "We must move on, we cannot linger."

                                He was about to voice his agreement when Andromeda started to speak. "They have taken the Gate, and the second Hall." Her voice echoed, reaching in and then back out, from the shadowed corners of the chamber. And the members of the Fellowship glanced uneasily around as she continued. "We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them long. The ground shakes. Drums. Drums in the deep. We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out. They are coming."

                                Her voice ceased and Boromir repressed a shiver. Yes, the faster they were gone from this place the better-

                                A sudden loud rattle jerked his attention away from Andromeda to where Pippin stood in a corner of the room. The skeletal remains sitting on what looked to be the edge of a well slid over the edge with a racket that seemed earth shattering. He cringed. Not even an Orc could have missed hearing that. 

                                He waited for any indication the noise had been heard. All the members of the company seemed to be holding their breath. Moments passed. Nothing.

                                Let out a slow breath, heart thudding. He was aware of Gandalf chastising Pippin. Just as the wizard turned away form the hobbit there came a new sound that filled him with dread.

                                Doom. Doom. The sound pulsed in the distance, felt as much through the floor as heard in the air, seeming to come from somewhere deep in the earth below.

                                "Drums."

                                The single word, uttered by Andromeda, sparked him into motion and he glanced at Frodo, even as the hobbit pulled Sting partially from its sheath. 

                                The blade glowed faintly in the twilight of the room. 

                                Legolas spat a single word laced with disgust. "Orcs!"

                                Boromir leapt for the door, already knowing it was too late for them to escape. The familiar sound of Orcish howls and shrieks found his ears as he gazed out into the great hall. He caught a glimpse of a mass of orcs moving toward him just before two arrows slammed into the door in front of his face. Sparing another glance at the approaching force he saw a hulking shadow moving just behind the main group.

                                Aragorn came up beside him even as he grabbed the edge of the door, arrows still quivering, and pushed it shut. The two of them barricaded the portal with old weapons passed to them by Gimli and Legolas. Observing the rickety thing, he knew it wouldn't hold long.

                                His back to the door, he informed the group, with a certain amount of disgust at their fortune, "They have a Cave Troll."

                                Moving back into the room he turned to the door again and readied himself. Shield and sword were solid weights on his arms, familiar and comforting. The doors shuddered under blows from outside and the shrieks and howls redoubled. Out of the corners of his eyes he saw Legolas and Aragorn readying their bows. A third flicker of motion from his right, on the other side of Aragorn caught his attention. Andromeda was standing, sword out, a grim expression on her face. 

                                Boromir stifled his impulse to protect her. From experience he knew she probably had a better chance of surviving this than he did. But that didn't seem to mean much to his emotions, and he firmly repressed his protective urge.

                                The door was almost down; holes were beginning to appear, and an ax-head burst through. When it was withdrawn one of Legolas's arrows followed it, earning a scream of pain from the other side of the door. Aragorn let loose an arrow and Legolas another, until, under the weight of the seething bodes outside, the door burst open.

                                A howling, screaming wave of orcs burst into the room. Several went down, hit by arrows, before Boromir found himself hacking at orcs reaching him. 

                                He ducked under a clumsy slash and blocked another blow on his shield. Swinging his sword up he knocked aside the orc's shield and then cut the creature down. Spinning to face another attack from the side he twisted away from a blow, to stab his blade into his opponent's chest. The orc dropped and he kicked out at another, while bashing a third's face in with his shield. 

                                Gaining a momentary respite he glanced around for the other members of the company. Gimil stood upon the tomb of Balin, an ax in either hand, and any orcs foolish enough to approach found themselves a head shorter. Aragorn decapitated an orc and spun to face two more that approached. Boromir took an instant to admire the ranger's skill as he fended off the two easily. Legolas danced about the room staying out of reach of the numerous orcs as he plied his bow with lethal skill. Gandalf was laying about himself with both his sword and staff, felling orcs as well as any of the warriors. Even the hobbits were making an accounting of themselves.

                                An orc threw itself at him with a scream, and he stopped its charge with a blow from his shield, and then followed with a decapitating strike of his sword. The maneuver brought Andromeda into his line of vision.

                                She was on the opposite side of the room. The ground around her was littered with orc corpses, many more than near any other member of the company, and the few orcs remaining near her appeared to be trying to run away.

                                A roar and an explosion of stone jerked his attention to the entrance. The Troll had arrived. The huge beast lumbered into the room in an eruption of stone dust from the impact of its club on the frame of the door. It moved further into the room and then seemed to notice the hobbit in front of it. Sam looked tiny in the face of the lumbering beast, and Boromir feared he was about to see the young hobbit die, as the beast raised its club. He leapt forward, thinking he would be too late, but Sam dove under the Troll avoiding the crushing blow. 

                                The hobbit lay on the ground, dazed, as the Troll turned on him. 

                                "The chain!" he heard Aragorn yell. The ranger was leaping over the bodies of slain orcs toward the iron chain trailing from the collar around the Troll's throat. 

                                Boromir reached it just an instant before and, even as the ranger's hands closed on the chain, heaved backwards. He pulled with all his strength and, hearing Aragorn's grunt of effort beside him, knew the ranger was doing the same. The tug pulled the Troll off balance and it turned toward them.

                                An orc leapt at Aragorn and the ranger was forced to let go of the chain to avoid being skewered. Boromir found himself, alone, holding the chain with an annoyed Troll on the other end. There was a shoulder-wrenching jerk as the Troll hauled on its end and he found himself flying through the air. He had an instant to brace himself before he slammed into the wall. After a moment, dazed, he shoved himself to hands and knees on wobbly arms, and looked up. 

                                The Troll slammed its club down onto Balin's tomb, shattering it, and barely missing Gimli as the dwarf hopped off. 

                                Boromir desperately cast about for a way to kill the beast. The hide of a Troll was leathery, thick, and only the strongest blows would penetrate. Usually a group of men with heavy axes or, in the open, a single man on horseback with a lance was employed to kill the creature. Neither were available here.

                                The Troll prepared to take another swipe at Gimli, who had dropped to the ground to avoid a previous blow, when the body of an orc arced through the air to smash into it from the side.

                                The Troll staggered at the blow and looked down at the corpse in bewilderment, to see what had hit it. 

                                Andromeda's voice rose over the din of battle. "Over here!" 

                                The yell dragged the Troll's attention up and in the direction the corpse had come from just as another orc, this one screaming, hurtled through the air to slam into its face.

                                "Yes, you! The big, lumpy, ugly one!"  

                                Boromir staggered to his feet as the Troll roared and lumbered toward Andromeda, apparently intent upon crushing this pest that was throwing orcs at it. His heart lurched as she raced straight at the Troll and the beast raised its club. 

                                Closing on the Troll she scooped up one of the axes that lay forgotten on the floor of the chamber, a remnant of the long ago battle, and moved within the beast's reach. 

                                With a bellow the club came down and Boromir, even watching closely as he was, barely caught what happened.

                                Andromeda was a flicker of motion as she sidestepped downward blow. Her ax blade moved with such speed it actually whistled as it cut through the air and drove into the leg of the Troll with an utterly inhuman force. The blade sliced through skin and muscle, and even cut into the incredibly dense Troll-bone, but lodged there, and the force of Andromeda's blow snapped the solid haft of the ax. 

                                A noise somewhere between a scream and a howl was torn from the Troll's throat as it toppled to the floor. 

                                Andromeda, still moving with that unnatural speed, reached down to grasp one of Gimli's discarded axes, swung it up, then brought it down with terrible force onto the neck of the Troll. The blade cut entirely through, slicing between the vertebrae, and driving into the stone floor beneath. 

                                Boromir became aware the sounds of battle had faded and, glancing around, saw that all of their enemies had fallen. Looking once more toward Andromeda, he observed the blade of the decapitating ax was actually driven a handspan into the stone of the floor, and he felt a little shiver run through him at the thought of the force necessary to accomplish that.

                                The members of the Fellowship moved back together from where they had been swept by the battle. Boromir, like everyone else, was looking carefully around at the others to make certain no one had been seriously injured. Bruises and scrapes abounded, but weapon injuries were few, amounting to only a few minor slashes. 

                                "Quickly," said Gandalf. "Before we are trapped a they were. To the bridge of Kahzadum." 

*                                *                                *  

                                Andromeda ran smoothly as they exited the tomb, unlike the other members of the Company who were breathing hard from the battle. She moved to the head of the Fellowship near Gandalf as he lead the way. They couldn't fight a large company of orcs effectively, so their only chance was to flee, and it was entirely possible there would be more of the creatures between them and the exit. 

                                Andromeda smiled grimly. Fortunately orcs were just as fragile as most other organics, so if it came to it she could clear a path fairly quickly. Though if there were more Trolls- they could present a problem.

                                As they sped across the great hall she pushed her passive sensors to their utmost. The noise of hundreds of orcs became clear, in the distance, but swiftly approaching. The tunnels distorted the sound, so she couldn't be sure, but she thought if they had stayed in the tomb much longer they would have been caught out in this hall by the main force.

                                There was something else as well. It was faint, almost undetectable, as there seemed to be a great deal of stone between her and it, but she was picking up an energy source. And it was moving in their direction. Without active sensors she was unable to tell anything about it, but whatever it was, it was throwing off a large amount of power. 

                                Reaching the far wall of the great hall Gandalf lead them through the door that broke it's expanse, and down a set of stairs that at first led straight, but then curved back upon themselves.

                                Time passed as they moved along the passage, and Gandalf took them straight along it, for it seemed to go in the direction he wanted. Andromeda noted that it was headed almost straight East. Every now and then it would descend in another flight of stairs. An hour passed and Andromeda heard only distant sounds of pursuit, and no sound of any force in front of them. She began to hope they would reach the Eastern Door uncontested.

                                The descended a seventh flight of stairs and Andromeda noticed a reddish light ahead, reflecting faintly off the walls of the passage. A distinct draft of hot air brushed across her face, but probably still undetectable to her companions, and she said, "There's a fire ahead."

                                Gandalf glanced at her as she spoke and his face grew concerned, but he shook his head. "Whatever new devilry is before us we must go forward. This is the only way; we cannot risk becoming lost in the passages." 

                                Minutes later they reached an arched doorway. The red light came through the opening and it was clear that there was some great conflagration on the other side. 

                                Gandalf went through, motioning for them to wait. The company huddled together in the passage, the faces of the warriors grim, and the hobbits casting nervous glances both behind and ahead. 

                                Andromeda turned to the dwarf beside her and asked in a low voice, "Gimli, what else is there in Moria besides orcs and Trolls?" 

                                "Goblin kin and perhaps wrogs, for the most part. Why?"

                                Andromeda hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Before we left the great hall I sensed something other than the Orcs and Trolls. I only got a faint impression, but it was very powerful."

                                The dwarf looked at her in bafflement for a moment, then something seemed to click in his mind. His eyes widened and his expression became disturbed, almost frightened. He looked about to speak when Gandalf returned. 

                                "We have reached the First Deep," he said. "Just below the gates. Beyond the eastern end, across the chasm, is the way out. The light is a fire set by the Orcs at this end. Come." The wizard led them forward.

                                They entered a massive hall through a small side doorway. The immense space stretched away, out to the east. At the western end, just past where they now stood, a raging fire burned across the breadth of the hall, blocking the main entryway. The firelight cast a red glow upon the carved walls and towering pillars, illuminating everything in a hellish light. 

                                "Had we come by the main road through Moria," Gandalf pointed to the entryway beyond the fire. "We would have been trapped there. Quickly now, down the hall, and across the bridge. We are almost away!"

                                He turned and raced down the hall, the company close behind. Andromeda detected orcs entering the chamber beyond the fire and laughed at their yells. 

                                Boromir turned to look back at both her laugh and the sudden outcry, and he to let loose a laugh of his own. "They have trapped themselves with the fire meant for us!"

                                Andromeda could see the sudden mood of elation that gripped the company as they sped down the hall. The bridge was just ahead, and beyond she could see a stair leading upward. Her eyes picked up the faintest hint of daylight glimmering beyond the doorway at the top of the stairs.

                                They began to cross the narrow bridge spanning the chasm in single file. Gimli first, followed by Merry and Pippin. Andromeda glanced over the edge into the abyss and after a moment ascertained that it descended farther than her perceptions reached. 

The not-so-proverbial bottomless pit.

                                She started to cross, then stopped and whirled around, staring at the entrance beyond the fire. Gandalf, Boromir, and Aragorn, who were all still on this side of the chasm, regarded her sudden movement with expressions of puzzlement. 

                                The thing she had detected moving toward them in the great hall had arrived. No longer shielded by many meters of stone, she could get a clear reading on it, but could make no sense of what she detected, other than the fact that it was very powerful. The only time she had ever detected anything like this was on the Magog world ship, when she was facing the Spirit of the Abyss. It hadn't read properly either.

                                Her voice had a disconcerted note that was foreign to her when she spoke, "What the hell is that?"

                                Even as the others turned to follow her gaze the orcs fell silent and huddled toward the walls in fear. 

                                From across the chasm came Legolas's wail, "A Balrog!"

                                Andromeda, with her hearing, also heard Gimli's horrified whisper, "Durin's Bane."

                                A huge shadow loomed behind the flames, and Andromida's eyes, which would have had no trouble at all with any normal darkness, couldn't see within its obscuring depth. 

                                Uncertain, Andromeda looked questioningly at the old wizard. "Gandalf?" 

                                He didn't answer, just leaned heavily upon his staff and stared into the shadow, an expression of grim resignation creeping onto his features.

                                The Balrog leapt forward over the fire, flames seething upward to embrace it, and Andromeda took a step back as she was faced with unfamiliar sensations. She could feel the Balrog, much like she had sensed Gandalf from time to time, but not with a part of herself she could quantify. Unlike Gandalf's sense, which was warm and comforting, this one seethed with rage and hate, while terror seemed to flow out before it.

                                Gandalf appeared to rally. "Quickly, over the chasm! Fly! This foe is beyond any of you! I must hold the bridge. Fly!" 

                                The wizard ushered them before him across the narrow span of stone. Aragorn and Boromir had reached the other side and she was approaching the end of the span when she realized Gandalf had stopped. And at the end of the bridge she stopped, turning to look back.

                                The Balrog stalked down hall, its shadow spread from wall to wall, and flames spilled from its skin. Gandalf appeared to shine in the gathering gloom, like a lantern before a lowering storm. 

                                Her eyes met Gandalf's as he glanced back at the Company and they stood that way for a brief moment. His expression was tender and a bit sad as he gazed at her. When he spoke it was in a voice that only her hearing could have discerned from the distance they were apart. "Even if you cannot see me there, you will not be alone, Andromeda. That is my promise to you."

                                His eyes held hers for a moment longer and she thought of so many things she wanted to say and to ask. 

                                Then he turned away.

                                The Balrog reached the bridge and stopped, looming over the wizard, a flame and shadow wreathed colossus.

                                Gandalf's voice rang like a clarion as he challenged the Balrog, but Andromeda paid little attention to the words, consumed by a terrible fear for the wizard. A single burning foot crashed down upon the bridge and a flaming sword swung high. Gandlalf's sword, Glamdring, flashed in answer and there was an explosion of white light and a noise like a thunderclap. The Balrog staggered back, its sword dissipating into flaming fragments. Gandalf swayed, and then once again stood firm.

                                "You cannot pass!" he cried.

                                The Balrog surged forward, moving full upon the bridge, and its whip hissed and cracked.                                 

                                Andromeda was aware of Aragorn and Boromir beside her, both poised to leap to wizard's aid. And seeing the titanic creature of shadow and flame looming above Gandalf she couldn't stand watch any longer, and made to go to the wizard.

                                In the same instant Gandalf brought his staff down upon the bridge and Andromeda detected a discharge of force. His staff splintered and fell from his hands, while the span of stone cracked, crumbling under the weight of the Balrog.

                                Howling, the Balrog fell into the abyss. Andromeda felt a surge of elation as the creature fell, but then caught sight of the whip lashing upward from its fist. She hurled herself forward even as the thongs curled about his knees and he was pulled into the chasm. He gripped uselessly at the stone, and then slid into the abyss. 

                                Andromeda's hand closed over the space his had occupied just a fraction of a second too late. She could do nothing but watch as Gandalf fell into the darkness, crying, "Fly you fools!" 

                                And he was gone.


End file.
